Konalani Yoga Ashram, Hawaii.

Full Essay with Quotes: Babaji often tells the story of his meeting with Swami Muktananda in which Muktananda told him that many meditation traditions teach that one meditates to experience the void, but that beyond the void is Shiva. In the current Dharana, we see the same teaching— when we use our practice to detach from the infinite manifestations of the mind and senses, we are able to attain mindful separation, which is like a void, and that sustaining that state brings us into union with our true nature, here named Bhairava, which is the same way of saying Shiva. Shiva exists beyond the void. In this Dharana our mind and senses are described as a type of five-fold mandala, smell, touch, taste, sight and sound working as one to inform us of our physical reality. These senses are likened to a peacocks feathers, which when fanned behind them create a dizzying experience much like the mind and senses can become. Our task as yogis is to witness the mind and senses, but not to multiply them with our energy. One method for this, given by Swami Lakshmanjoo, is to see the senses themselves as voids. “You must concentrate simultaneously on [the void while experiencing each of] these five, that it is nothing, it is only a void and nothing else. Then, you have to forcibly concentrate that these are nothing, [that] these objects are nothing–“What I see is nothing, what appears to me is nothing, what I hear is nothing, what I touch and what I get [as] the sensation of smell, it is nothing, it is only śūnya.” It is only seeing as energy–just seeing only, hearing only, not to analyze that…There it ends. And when I feel smelling, there ends that. At the time of that sensation of smelling, you must end it there. You must not go further, You must not go beyond that so that you will [avoid being] entangled in the world of the senses.”This is one of the many underlying teachings of the Tattvas, the yogic map of manifestation. In the tattvas we see that Shiva and Shakti's dance creates all of manifestation. As we expand further from Shiva we are covered by maya, illusion, meaning as our awareness moves further from our own center we identify less and less with our true nature. This outward expansion from center takes a particular path that is helpful in understanding this Dharana. We see in tattvas 17-21, the power of the physical senses are developed— there are called the Jnana Idriyas, which is referred to in the text by Swami Lakshmanjoo as well. This is considered the source of the senses, described as the ‘power of seeing' the ‘power of smelling' and so on. This source gives rise to the sensations themselves, tattvas 27-31, called the subtle elements. This would be the capacity for sense itself, but not of any particular scent. The capacity for sight, but not necessarily a particular sight, etc. And eventually the power and capacity for the senses gives rise to the actual gross elements themselves, tattvas 32-36, the final and most externalized of manifestation. Interesting enough, all three of these capacity's arise simultaneously, we see the object, but often miss the deeper mechanism happening within us. Intro to Kashmir Shaivism: “The moment the senses of perception are produced, the five tanmatras or subtle elements of perception also come into manifestation from the same Ahamkara, because the indriyas can have no meaning or existence whatsoever with​out the objects with which they are inseparably correlated. For instance, the indriya of hearing has no meaning without something to hear, that is, without sound. Similarly, the indriyas of feeling-by-touch, tasting, and smelling have no meaning without a simultaneous reference to something to feel, taste, and smell. Therefore, the moment Manas arises as desire, Ahamkara takes a triple form: I - (1) de​sire - (2) to see - (3) some color.” (Note: the ahamkara is the self that is doing or the personality associated with this individual body. It refers to the sense of being an individual separate from everything else.)This means that behind every color is a deeper understanding if we are willing to surrender it. This experience of surrender is something we have been given by Swami Rudrananda, but keep in mind that this word does not come up very often in the text as we have read it. Therefore the act of surrender is a way of describing a very paradoxical yet essential reality we must learn to participate within— if we can let go of the sense object in front of us, which appears to mean we are left with nothing, we are actually brought to a much vaster experience. Beyond the void is Shiva, this is an essentially another way of teaching us the nature of surrender. When we let go we begin to receive. Let go of the color, receive the source of the color. To the mind we have lost something, but to the heart we have gained. As Jai Deva Singh teaches at the end of his commentary on this Dharana: The Absolute void is Bhairava who is beyond the senses and the mind, beyond al the categories of these instruments. From the point of view of the human mind, Shiva is most void.From the point of view of Reality, Shiva is most full, for Shiva is the source of al manifestation.Which brings us to the translation and practice of Dharana 9. Paul Reps wording is very much on the positive side, instead of letting go or getting less, he focuses on melting within and receiving more. Instead of rejecting outer form, we see that our goal is to absorb it. We find the source by letting ourselves really open up to it. In sight we see that once we surrender the object of our focus, we receive the object of our wishes. “Or, imagine the five-colored circles of the peacock tail to be your five senses in illimitable space. Now let their beauty melt within. Similarly, at any point in space or on a wall—until the point dissolves. Then your wish for another comes true.”

Full Essay with Quotes: Babaji often tells the story of his meeting with Swami Muktananda in which Muktananda told him that many meditation traditions teach that one meditates to experience the void, but that beyond the void is Shiva. In the current Dharana, we see the same teaching— when we use our practice to detach from the infinite manifestations of the mind and senses, we are able to attain mindful separation, which is like a void, and that sustaining that state brings us into union with our true nature, here named Bhairava, which is the same way of saying Shiva. Shiva exists beyond the void. In this Dharana our mind and senses are described as a type of five-fold mandala, smell, touch, taste, sight and sound working as one to inform us of our physical reality. These senses are likened to a peacocks feathers, which when fanned behind them create a dizzying experience much like the mind and senses can become. Our task as yogis is to witness the mind and senses, but not to multiply them with our energy. One method for this, given by Swami Lakshmanjoo, is to see the senses themselves as voids. “You must concentrate simultaneously on [the void while experiencing each of] these five, that it is nothing, it is only a void and nothing else. Then, you have to forcibly concentrate that these are nothing, [that] these objects are nothing–“What I see is nothing, what appears to me is nothing, what I hear is nothing, what I touch and what I get [as] the sensation of smell, it is nothing, it is only śūnya.” It is only seeing as energy–just seeing only, hearing only, not to analyze that…There it ends. And when I feel smelling, there ends that. At the time of that sensation of smelling, you must end it there. You must not go further, You must not go beyond that so that you will [avoid being] entangled in the world of the senses.”This is one of the many underlying teachings of the Tattvas, the yogic map of manifestation. In the tattvas we see that Shiva and Shakti's dance creates all of manifestation. As we expand further from Shiva we are covered by maya, illusion, meaning as our awareness moves further from our own center we identify less and less with our true nature. This outward expansion from center takes a particular path that is helpful in understanding this Dharana. We see in tattvas 17-21, the power of the physical senses are developed— there are called the Jnana Idriyas, which is referred to in the text by Swami Lakshmanjoo as well. This is considered the source of the senses, described as the ‘power of seeing' the ‘power of smelling' and so on. This source gives rise to the sensations themselves, tattvas 27-31, called the subtle elements. This would be the capacity for sense itself, but not of any particular scent. The capacity for sight, but not necessarily a particular sight, etc. And eventually the power and capacity for the senses gives rise to the actual gross elements themselves, tattvas 32-36, the final and most externalized of manifestation. Interesting enough, all three of these capacity's arise simultaneously, we see the object, but often miss the deeper mechanism happening within us. Intro to Kashmir Shaivism: “The moment the senses of perception are produced, the five tanmatras or subtle elements of perception also come into manifestation from the same Ahamkara, because the indriyas can have no meaning or existence whatsoever with​out the objects with which they are inseparably correlated. For instance, the indriya of hearing has no meaning without something to hear, that is, without sound. Similarly, the indriyas of feeling-by-touch, tasting, and smelling have no meaning without a simultaneous reference to something to feel, taste, and smell. Therefore, the moment Manas arises as desire, Ahamkara takes a triple form: I - (1) de​sire - (2) to see - (3) some color.” (Note: the ahamkara is the self that is doing or the personality associated with this individual body. It refers to the sense of being an individual separate from everything else.)This means that behind every color is a deeper understanding if we are willing to surrender it. This experience of surrender is something we have been given by Swami Rudrananda, but keep in mind that this word does not come up very often in the text as we have read it. Therefore the act of surrender is a way of describing a very paradoxical yet essential reality we must learn to participate within— if we can let go of the sense object in front of us, which appears to mean we are left with nothing, we are actually brought to a much vaster experience. Beyond the void is Shiva, this is an essentially another way of teaching us the nature of surrender. When we let go we begin to receive. Let go of the color, receive the source of the color. To the mind we have lost something, but to the heart we have gained. As Jai Deva Singh teaches at the end of his commentary on this Dharana: The Absolute void is Bhairava who is beyond the senses and the mind, beyond al the categories of these instruments. From the point of view of the human mind, Shiva is most void.From the point of view of Reality, Shiva is most full, for Shiva is the source of al manifestation.Which brings us to the translation and practice of Dharana 9. Paul Reps wording is very much on the positive side, instead of letting go or getting less, he focuses on melting within and receiving more. Instead of rejecting outer form, we see that our goal is to absorb it. We find the source by letting ourselves really open up to it. In sight we see that once we surrender the object of our focus, we receive the object of our wishes. “Or, imagine the five-colored circles of the peacock tail to be your five senses in illimitable space. Now let their beauty melt within. Similarly, at any point in space or on a wall—until the point dissolves. Then your wish for another comes true.”

Immerse yourself in the transformative spirit of Ganesha as our Ashram resonates with the joyous celebrations that extend from personal realms to the universal. Delve into the symbolic journey through the story of Mushaka, Ganesha's mouse, illustrating the release of karmic obstacles and the surrender to Shakti's play, guiding us toward union with Shiva. Join us in expanding awareness beyond the five coverings, inspired by the wisdom of Ganesha and the transformative power of surrender. Om Gam Ganapataye Namah! The Mouse of the Mind: Embracing Ganesh through the Story of Mushaka It is that time of year - Ganesha pervades our Ashrams and pujas, our lives and is everywhere! The celebrations spread in a widening circle to envelop ourselves and our families, then our friends & relatives, next the people in our public lives, then the arts & artistes enriching our lives and finally, encompassing all beings in all Lokas. It feels like a wholesome practice expanding my awareness past five aspects of my karma - from the physical and personal to the subtle and Universal. These aspects are reminiscent of the five kanchukas in Kashmir Shaivism (or even the five koshas of Advaita) that limit the experience of Universal consciousness. The five heads of Ganesha seem to symbolize His help for the progress of my awareness through these five coverings. In our practices, we surrender to the play of Shakti (i.e., Parvati) which moves our ordinary awareness into union with Shiva (Universal consciousness). Ganesha's energy helps the surrender by removing obstacles manifested in these karmic covers. The story of Ganesha's vehicle, the mouse, illustrates the nature of these blocks. The story begins in Indra Loka where Krauncha was an accomplished celestial musician. His artistry however inflated his ego leading to pride and jealousy. He became miserly in praise of others, often absent when others performed or, preferred to sulk in the back or linger behind pillars in the hall. One day, Indra called on him to perform for the assembly of sages and Devas. As he sashayed to the dais, he thought he heard rapturous applause from sage Vamadeva on the way. In reality, however, he had stepped on the sage's feet and the furious sage had cursed him “Enough of your false pretenses! May your outer form reflect your inner nature!” Krauncha was immediately transformed to a huge mountain-sized rodent to match the size of his pride! Why a rodent? It loves dark places and prefers corners and edges to open spaces which are seen as threatening or negative. Our pride is invisible to us and operates in the dark recesses of our mind, delighting in gossip and thriving on the failures of others. This negativity bias is a survival instinct that causes us to blame others when they reflect our limitations back to us. Back in the story, as the mouse-mountain moved, it trampled and destroyed the dwellings and all beings in its path. A desperate Indra ejected Krauncha from the heavens to the earth. Scurrying on earth, it destroyed forests, mountains, lakes, farms and families eventually reaching the Ashram of sage Parashara. Ganesha who was visiting the Ashram decided to end the rampage and collared the mouse with his lasso. This yanked the mouse off his feet and landed him, stunned, at Ganesha's feet. The shock of the event flashed Krauncha's behavior past his mind's eye. He felt remorseful and begged Ganesha for forgiveness. Ganesha saw that Krauncha's negative nature had dissolved. So he decided to employ Krauncha's skills and talents and made him his vehicle. And, this is how Ganesha snagged a mouse for his ride. And like tiny mice, all kinds of thoughts scurry about the mind and pull it away from our practice. Unless we surrender them, we function from our mind and ego, much like Krauncha, the musician. This is the nature of the blocks manifest in our karmic coverings. As Babaji had said at a recent Satsang, ”… The Shakti will take you through every insecurity, every illusion, and every obstacle that exists in you, on the way to that state of perfection. You have to be willing to face it and move beyond all of it …” As we practice to expand our awareness past the five coverings, the Shakti will present our karma to us. Our heartfelt wish to grow draws Ganesha's energy to all parts of our mind - through the smallest openings and darkest areas like riding a mouse! To help us surrender past the karmic blocks to union with Shiva. Om Gam Ganapataye Namah!

Embarking on the path to spiritual growth is often framed as a solemn endeavor, demanding ceaseless, mindful effort. But it doesn't have to be a burdensome task—instead, it can be a playful and invigorating journey that engages us fully in every minute of our existence. In a recent exchange with Sri Shambhavananda, the anecdotes about Paul Reps, the contemporary Zen master and compiler of Zen Flesh Zen Bones, were illuminating. Reps illustrates that continuous mindfulness can be pursued not just through disciplined practice, but also with a touch of lightheartedness and curiosity. As we delve Dharana 6, we'll explore how the wisdom of "every minute Zen" aligns with the ancient teachings of Shiva Sutra 2.3, which states that "pauseless effort brings attainment." Our spiritual journey, as it turns out, can be a seamless blend of focus, surrender, and even a bit of playfulness—enabling us to embody mindfulness in every moment. Eventually this work paves the way for our work with Dharana 5 & 6 from the Vijnana Bhairava, which focuses on entering the natural and uplifting flow of Shakti that permeates our Heart, our Shushumna, and even our daily lives. The tale of “Every Minute Zen” from Zen Flesh Zen Bones highlights the importance of unbroken mindfulness….”Zen Students are with their masters at least ten years before they presume to teach others. Nan-in was visited by Tenno, who, having passed his apprenticeship, had become a teacher. The day happened to be rainy, so Tenno wore wooden clogs and carried an umbrella. After greeting him Nan-in remarked: “I suppose you left your wooden clogs in the vestibule. I want to know if your umbrella is on the right or left side of the clogs. Tenno, confused, had no instant answer. He realized that he was unable to carry his Zen every minute. He became Nan-in's pupil, and he studied six more years to accomplish his every-minute Zen.” The story of every minute zen reminds us that we should be fully aware and present at all times. Paul Reps himself was known for his playful techniques to maintain mindfulness. For instance, a simple action like switching a bracelet you wear everyday from one wrist to the other could serve as a practice to be more present. The teaching here is, perhaps, that being fully present is equal parts discipline and creativity. It requires us to be committed but also to maintain a sense of playfulness. As Reps once described it, “serious play”— our everyday play of being present. I recently had the chance to ask Babaji about pauseless presence in Monday Night Satsang. His guidance was that one can't force themselves to be continuously present; one needs to be relaxed and in tune with the flow of the moment in order to really experience the present. This mirrors the commonly used motto in high-stakes professions: "Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast”— that is, we have to relax and slow down if we are ever going to rise up to the real heights of any discipline. Paul Reps emphasized the same idea in his poem, "Smooth Motion Cures Commotion," suggesting that when we move smooth we not only heal ourselves but even those around us, “If the world ship sinks will you save it,” Reps writes, “Yes you will, move smooth.” Shiva Sutra 2.3 also reflects this, teaching that “Pauseless effort brings attainment”, meaning that practicing with continuity is one of our greatest assets in our practice. How do we achieve continuity, and thus the rewards of it? Slow down and smooth out our effort, and let the rest come naturally. A metaphor that Babaji often uses is that of digging a well— if you are steady and stick with it, eventually the rewards will rush up to meet you in a natural and sustainable manner. About a year and a half ago, Babaji advised the sangha to ‘slow down' in their daily practice. One example of this is that of ‘over-breathing' when meditating on the breath, leading to hyperventilation and nervous system imbalances. Babaji recommended gentler breathing patterns and a focus on heart-centered meditation. For much of the sangha this was a rejuvenating experience, much our current Dharana is describing—Slowing down and smoothing out their practice allowed them to feel the natural energy and power that is radiating from within them all the time. Which brings us to the heart of our current Dharana. Dharana 6 of the Vijnana Bhairava guides us to focus on the lightning-like upsurge of shakti in the spine. Reaching directly for this level of experience could be like trying to move fast without first moving slow and smooth— either it is ineffective, or could cause imbalance. For this reason, the commentary on the Dharana urges us to take our time to ground our awareness, and allow the upsurge to come slowly and naturally. The take away here is that our work isn't to push or pull energy, but to calm our mind and body deeply, bring our attention low into our base and allow the exhale to be a natural expression of this upward flowing energy. If done consciously, this experience should help us feel more grounded and present, as opposed to our energy flowing up into our heads and thoughts. It should be noted that the upsurge of Kundalini energy discussed in this chapter is also described as an expansion of the heart center. This means that we can also practice this lightning like expansion in our hearts as we exhale, which may be more in line with your daily practice. I found this parallel to be extremely beneficial in unlocking the teachings that Babaji has been describing over the past couple of years— the effortless expansion of our hearts during the exhale. This level of experience can only be truly felt when the mind is calm and the body is relaxed. So, let's take a moment to engage with Dharana 6. As Babaji has been guiding us, try applying this focus to your heart first, and then taking your time to bring the awareness down to your base before feeling the lightning like energy of the spine.Dharana 5 & 6 from the Vijnana Bhairava, Paul Reps Translation“Consider your essence as light rays rising from center to center up the vertebrae, and so rises livingness in you. // Or in the spaces between, feel this as lightning.”

This class will deepen your connection to deity Vishnu through stories and new perspectives, kirtan, and meditation.

This class reflects further on Vijnana Bhairava Dharana 5 through discussion, free writing, and meditation.

This pressure or density is not only natural, but good for us. When diving underwater in the physical world, our body recognizes the pressure and slows down our heart rate, shifting our nervous system down towards a more restful and rejuvenating state. The pressure is also good for our lungs. In our subtle bodies when meditating there is a very similar experience, when we go inside our heart rate slows down and our nervous system down shifts. And similar to the water, there is a natural tendency to bob like a buoy in our heads all day long, staying at the surface, and it takes a certain kind of work to actually go deep within ourselves. And like water, we do this in small sessions— we don't need to live underwater, we just need to practice going there over and over again. In fact, it is teh repetition that is the source of our depth, “Inserting the spark of awareness and letting it fade” as Shiva Sutra —- teaches. It is Effort over time, as Rudi teaches, that yields real growth. The pressure of this dive within ourselves is unique, subtle. I hope that by discussing this pressure it does not lead to any expectations of pressure and thus doership. Instead I hope that by discussion this subtle pressure that we feel when we go inside it helps us actually feel our experience more clearly, and interact with it more personally. Because, as Babaji has been teaching steadfastly for quite a while, we so often get attached to the technique and artificial goals in our practice, such as “how deep we are diving”, or “how long we can hold our breath” to keep with the analogy, and we not only miss the point of our practice, but we miss the experience, and thus also miss the growth. Technique is here to guide us to the present, to our direct experience, to our state of being— that is what I hope this discussion does for you. Because it doesn't matter how deep you dive within yourself— its the pressure itself that is beneficial, the actual experience of going inside and working with that experience— and when you can shift your awareness from the ‘depth' to the ‘experience', every depth becomes more beneficial, sustainable and interactive. We are diving into the heart to interact with the experience, not to be done with the experience. As teh Sutras say, it is a subjective experience, not objective— meaning it is meant to be happening to you in the state you are in today, within the context of your life right now. We are each meant to really experience the process of going inside every time we do it, not to simply go through the motions like watching a TV show while you walk 3 miles on a treadmill. This is why it is beneficial to pay attention to the experience rather than focus on the destination— the experience is where the growth is. The subtle pressure that exists within us, that we slowly but surely breathe through, is the source of the healing— it doesn't matter the depth or the time spent underwater/inside, it matters how much you are absorbing and participating in the experience. It Which brings us to the second half of the Dharana, the rising up. Diving down is the work, rising up is the serenity. In the water, diving down is effort, you not only have to actively swim against the natural buoyancy of the ocean, you have to stop every few kicks to actively clear your ears, and this process continues every few feet. At a certain point you stop and allow yourself to rise up slowly. There is no need to kick here, or even clear your ears, you simply rise up and expand to the surface. In our practice it is the same. The work of going inside takes time and effort, we work with the experience directly and gradually, and let it work on us. And eventually there comes a time to allow ourselves to rise up and expand naturally. In the big picture one could say this is the moment of our Kundalini rising up the spine to the crown chakra. If we zoom out even further, this could be said to be the description of enlightenment itself, a gradual rising up that takes place over liftetimes of Sadhana. From a more zoomed in perspective, this could also be referring to the latter half of the circular breath, wherein our attention rises up the spine. Or in an even more localized way, and the way we have been instructed to work more and more these days by our teacher, this is referring to the subtle expansion that takes place in the heart on each exhale. For the past year or so, Babaji has been emphasizing the practice of bringing our attention to the heart with our inhale, and then allowing the heart to expand with the exhale. The expansion that takes place in the heart is subtle, and happens gradually. When letting one's self rise up from a decent depth underwater, it can often feel slow, or even impreceptible, compared to the effort one expels to dive down. But again, if we pay attention to the experience itself as we did when we dove down into the heart, there will be plenty to feel. For me, I was expelling too much effort in the expansion of the heart and missing the experience altogether— but when I thought of it like rising up from under water, I let go and actually felt what was happening. So this analogy was a bit of a breakthrough for my personal practice, helping me use a natural physical experience to better understand a natural subtle experience. From where you're sitting, let your eyes close and turn your attention within. This initial turn already initiates the healing process, and you can feel the subtle shift. This is almost like the shift of being in water versus being on land, there's a buoyancy in side, an ebb and flow like rising and falling currents. Breathe in through the third eye, and towards the base of the throat. Feel this slight shift in internal pressure, there's a density being approached, like the density of water just a few feet under the surface. Instead of trying to go past the density you encounter, feel it. Absorb that healing pressure, let it do its work. Swallow to relieve the pressure in the throat, almost like cleaning your ears, and feel the path to the heart open up. This is the practice we have been working on with Babaji for a while now. The path to the heart. Notice the experience of getting to the heart with your breath— feel the subtle density that you encounter and work with it. That density is why we are meditating, it is literally what we are breathing through. With each inhale we can bring our awareness towards the heart, embracing the subtle hug of pressure that may exist there, and as we exhale we expand our experience in the heart in a different way.

This class will help you deepen your connection to goddess Parvati, followed by kirtan and meditation.

In this Teaching Moments episode, Sangha member Arati and Satyam discuss their experiences of finding refuge in the heart, our meditation practice, and the sangha.Arati: Talking about my practice is not something I'm very familiar with…I feel like I am still trying to learn, understand, and feel for what it means to have a spiritual practice. The talks that the sangha members gave at the intensive really resonated and inspired me to try and open up as I could relate to a lot of what they talked about and how they used their practice during rough times.The last couple of years have been very turbulent for me and I can't say I'm totally on the other side so a lot of my experience is still current. A 10 year marriage ended and with it took a lot of people I considered family, I lost my house and most of my belongings, I left a job that I worked really hard to get to where I was and with all that change…so much else was shaken up and lost. It felt like my entire world and what I relied on for stability, security, safety, and comfort was all pulled out from underneath me in a blink of an eye. It felt so quick that I didn't know who I was anymore. When people would ask me how I felt..it felt like I was jello, in the in-between…it was so scary and uncomfortable. Early on when these changes started happening, I went to Shoshoni for a weekend training with Satyam and Abhaya and when I returned to the east coast, I signed up for an online yoga teacher training with them. During that training, everything was falling apart and it was so hard for me to show up for those classes let alone meditate on my own each day. But ever since I connected to this practice, it's been there for me when I didn't know what else to do.I had always dreamed of going to India and what better of a time than when you've lost everything? And because I have this practice and have been warned over and over throughout the years…I knew I wasn't going to find anything out there to solve my problems or the key to my happiness but staying or going was equally tough. So I left my job and went on a big adventure with my new partner. I was traveling the world and in a newish relationship and although I'm so grateful for both of these experiences, after having my life dismantled, it definitely wasn't a vacation.I won't go too much into my traveling and it did strengthen my gratitude for these teachings and for Babaji but I also went through a lot more discomfort on so many different levels. Because of the state I was in internally, the chaos, uncertainty, and unfamiliarity all around me was so challenging physically, emotionally, and mentally. I kept making a (small) effort to do my practice but I have been exhausted by life and my mind felt like it was torturing me when I would sit to meditate. Still feeling pretty lost, I reluctantly reached out to Abhaya and asked about spending some time at Konalani.On the Big Island there is a place called the city of refuge where, in ancient Hawaiian times, if you committed a crime and you made it to this point, you would be absolved of your punishment, which was typically death. That sounds pretty extreme and I wasn't running from a crime but even though I knew it wasn't going to be easy, getting myself to the ashram felt like making it to my own place of refuge.I was right, it hasn't been easy. Being at the ashram is not an escape from any of your problems and most days, they are highlighted for me. But I've been able to get some clarity and reconnect to my practice in a big way. I have a reason to wake up each morning and am committed to doing my practice each day no matter what. I've got a place to sleep, food to eat, work to do each day and the support of the sangha. When I have to face my stuff - feeling lost, confused, disoriented, sad, overwhelmed - I can be in the flow of the ashram and I can remember that I am here to do this work.My idea of a refuge has really deepened during my time here. I asked Babaji how I should work while I am here and he said to stay centered and when I feel myself getting drawn out to come back. He's also pulled me aside during seva and told me to stop worrying and that I need to relax. I've always liked Babaji's surfing references because I surf a little bit and I found this quote where he said: “It is a lot like surfing: there is a wave of energy causing the transformation in your life. Your job is to keep centered and to keep your balance. That means you don't go to extremes mentally and emotionally. You don't get overly excited or overly conservative. Try to stay centered and balanced.”It's been hard for me to find this state of being centered and balanced because my mind really wants to analyze all the loss and feel all the emotions over and over. It hit me during a movie yoga night when there was a really intense scene happening and I could feel myself getting pulled into the drama, feeling the anxiety and anticipating what was coming. Babaji told us all to take a breath and in that moment, I released the grip on the scene and felt a sense of relief and peace inside. It was so easy to realize that the movie was separate from me and the emotions I was feeling weren't me. It made me wonder what if surrendering my own stuff was that easy? I truly want to experience my inner self as a place of refuge that's always with me and can't be taken away. So, I've really been trying to connect to this place inside and cultivate my inner refuge while I am meditating, while I am doing seva, and everywhere in between by recognizing that I am feeling heavy, tight, anxious or having negative thoughts and drawing my attention inside, relaxing, and allowing there to be calm. In Spiritual Practice, Babaji says: “What we are looking for when we meditate is peace of mind. Peace is the most incredibly valuable thing in the whole universe. Our minds are always active. They try to define us through our experiences.Though that may be useful to a degree, it is not the truth. The truth of who we are and what we are lies beyond the chatter and the noise of our minds. When we move beyond the chatter we will find clarity and a real sense of being present. We will begin to have a deeper understanding of our existence.” I am so grateful to have an actual place of refuge to go to and for the support I've received over the years and especially recently. It's helped me prioritize my practice and start to feel my feet on the ground again. Mostly, it has helped me feel a glimpse of my inner self that is beyond the chatter, beyond anything external, so that I can feel safe, secure, and at peace no matter what.Satyam:A line that really stuck with me from Arati's presentation was “I truly want to experience my Inner Self as a place of refuge that's always with me and can't be taken away”… I do too, and I'm sure you do as well. As she taught, We have a place of refuge in our hearts, a place we can go to at any time to dissolve the obscurations of daily life. But like the place of refuge here in Hawaii, It takes effort to get there, and effort to remain there, but no matter how much effort it takes what's most important is that it really is there. And as Arati taught, we can find refuge in our practice if we are willing to seek it out throughout our daily practices, tasks and activities. We have to find refuge in each repetition of the mantra, each weed we pull, each breath we take, each dish we wash, each posture we practice... In classic non-dual understanding, the place of refuge is only revealed to those willing to walk with refuge. As the Shiva Sutras put it, ‘the path is only revealed to the revealer'— the path to the place of refuge is only revealed to those who are seeking refuge in their path. This unique effort is of course nothing new, but a foundational topic in every practice. How do perform mantra in a way that leads us to its place of refuge? We can't yell the mantra, or do them faster, to accelerate the process— we start from where we're at, and work our way from the vibration in the mouth, to the throat to the heart. The same goes for the breath— you can't just jump into breath awareness, the mind pushes and pulls it immediately. You have to lengthen and smooth out the breath, and then slowly but surely release that effort and arrive at the experience of refuge in breath awareness. Swami Rudrananda always taught that the WIsh to Grow practice begins at a superficial level, none of us mean it at first, but we simply repeat each repetition with a little more sincerity, and eventually we arrive. The topic of refuge inspires a deeper appreciation for how we practice, not just what we practice, which has been at the forefront of Babaji's teaching over the past year and a half. When he says we need to learn to relax as we practice, in my opinion this doesn't mean we relax and then practice, as if they are two separate things, but that we learn how to use our practice to help us relax, that we use our practice not to blow up our karma, but release ourselves from it. Babaji recently used the analogy of dropping something out of your hand as a way of understanding surrender— when you use each mantra as a way to release, each breath as a way to release, then you become released. This is what the topic of refuge means to me, and how it has opened up my practice. So let's take time to walk through our practice with refuge and see if the path to the place of refuge in our hearts naturally unfolds for us step by step.

Join us as we explore our practice through the art of writing from within. We will review Dharana 4 and spend time meditating, writing, and discussing, in addition to some light movement. You are welcome to bring previous writing to continue working on or use the prompts provided.

Dharana 4 concludes the breath and pause specific teachings in this portion of the Vijnana Bhairava, and is our focal point for tonight. In this Dharana we begin to lean into the pause skillfully, feeling for the moment when we are ‘all out' or ‘all in', and allowing ourselves to be absorbed in a space where our ‘small self vanishes'. Before we unpack it, we can sit for a minute with the dharana itself and let it speak to you directly:“When breath is all out (up) and stopped of itself, or all in (down) and stopped—in such universal pause, one's small self vanishes. This is difficult only for the impure.”The breath itself is a ‘ceaseless pulsation' of life force, a throb of Shakti described as Spanda. When the breath pauses, as we saw in the last Dharana, there is a moment of where the ceaseless pulsation of life fuses into stillness— this stillness is not separate from reality, but a unique experience within it— a moment when the surface of the water becomes absolutely still before the wave pool of the breath begins again. This moment comes and goes in a flash for most of us most of the time— yet it seems to be a Holy Grail of meditative experience. Holding the pause with the will misses the point— we only end up feeling our will, not the peace of the pause— so what other options are there? As Muktananda teaches in his text “I Am That”, if we want to expand the pause, we have to expand our experience of the breath itself: “The state of stillnesswhich occurs when the syllables merge inside and outsideis natural kumbhaka.You don't have to make a deliberate effort to hold your breath,because as you practice hamsa,the time of the suspension of breath begins to expand.The duration of the kumbhaka increases naturally.”To expand our experience of the breath overall, we can slow down our breath, this guarantees that we will stay connected to the flow, while also taking ourselves towards the subtle destination of the pause. Of course this must be within reason and not create tension, but once the breath is slower, your mind slows down too and you can begin to work through the impurities that the Dharana alludes to. Because who are the impure that have trouble feeling the pause and slowing down? All of us, most of the time. As study after study concludes, our overstimulated nervous systems are stuck in a subtle state of fight and flight. And as we know about the sympathetic nervous system, when we are ‘fighting and flighting'— which is to say thinking, planning and scheming— the maintenance aspects of our biology go on hold. Our digestion slows down, our cellular repair and maintenance slows down, everything goes on pause so we can get through this or that struggle. Its like being in a hurry all morning and leaving the toothbrush open on the counter, throwing a towel on an unmade bed and leaving breakfast dishes in the sink. It helps us get to work on time this time, but studies are showing us that these biological dishes are just piling up inside, as a 2018 article from the University of Colorado health and medical center describes it— “When you check your phone or hear an alert, you activate your sympathetic nervous system, the part of your body that's always scanning the environment. It gives you a little shot of adrenaline for every interaction. That adrenaline, which is meant to trigger your body to pay attention, sets off a cascade of chemicals that increases heart rate, pulse and muscle tension, and shunts energy from the brain to the muscles. It will take five to 30 minutes for your body to get back to baseline after every one of these alarms…Which is a problem in a world where cell phones rarely stop. Essentially, people don't ever come back down to baseline…We have one stress after another after another. All that stress wreaks havoc on the body and mind, causing or contributing to a range of diseases, from heart disease and depression, to sleep deprivation and chronic fatigue” (https://www.uchealth.org/today/the-hidden-stress-of-cell-phones/)These are the impurities to which the Dharana alludes— when we are in this neurological state, it is hard to meditate. The solution… s-l-o-w…d-o-w-n… Slow it all down, and start to feel again. When we can start to feel again, then we can start to relax and release, we can start cleaning up the debris, and eventually we can even begin to experience something beyond it.A Student once asked Babaji, “I have been very bothered lately by tightness in my heart. Can you suggest a way for me to release that tension?” To which he responded, “Try to breathe slowly and feel your navel. As you exhale relax deeply. Don't focus on an area where the congestion is. Focus below it, or beyond it. You have to draw the energy down. Your type of experience usually has to do with the energy coming back up the chakras. You have to breathe very slowly and deeply below the tightness and into the navel, and then relax and release. It is helpful to inhale slowly to a count of one, two, three. Then exhale to the same count. Sometimes students inhale and then exhale too quickly.” (SP, 29)As Babaji says here, when we slow down we can begin to feel, relax and release. Slowing down opens the door to feeling, and feeling allows us to feel what needs to be released. When we are stuck in an over-stimulated loop, this can be hard to do— which is why the Yogic tradition teaches us to work our way there layer by layer, through the Koshas. One of the reasons we have incorporated yoga into our Thursday night class schedule is because Babaji wants people to start slowing down and consciously figuring out how to relax and release— and the body is the most tactile place to start this process. As Anju talked about a few months ago, her asana practice, and slowing down in her asana practice, was the key to breaking through seemingly insurmountable obstacles in her meditation practice. Many people have resistance to Asana because it doesn't seem to work with the mind and heart as directly as meditation. But what's better— running really fast in circles or taking slower conscious steps towards relief? I know we all feel that we can just drop our tensions with a breath, and maybe we can occasionally, but slowing down on the physical level helps us slow down on the pranic level, which helps us slow down on the subtler levels of the heart and mind. And the act of slowing down really just means open up. Every aspect of our tradition tells us this, so I thought we could work with it more directly in tonights guided practice.

In this class, we explore stories and new ways of relating to the Deities of our lineage, followed by kirtan and meditation. A deeper connection to our Deities - these powerful, loving spiritual forces - is always available, and our relationship to them is ever-changing. Today's episode will open your heart to a greater and more expansive understanding of Shiva. Tonights Chants: Shiva Shiva Mahadeva Namah Shivaya Sada Shiva Refrain: Om Namah Shivaya Namah Shivaya Shiva Shiva Shankara Om Namah Shivaya Jaya Hara Hara Maha-dev Shiva Shiva Shankara Om Namah Shivaya

Let your creative juices flow as we recap and are inspired by previous class topics, especially the Shambhavi Mudra - the ability to keep your attention within as your senses are turned outward and you navigate the external world..

“Whenever inbreath and out breath fuse, at this instant touch the energyless energy-filled center.”When considering the pause between the breath, it is almost automatic to approach it from the outside in— meaning, to watch your breath and feel for the pause to occur. This, we are told, was the practice given in Dharana 2, which taught us to watch the breath ‘turn, turn turn'. As Swami Lakshmanjoo begins his translation of Dharana 3, though, “now, [we are entering] a more subtle process”. The subtle teaching at the heart of this Dharana is that we can experience the pause between our breaths more fully through the internal gaze of the Shambhavi Mudra, described in the commentary as Bhairavi Mudra. The Shambhavi Mudra is the practice of keeping the senses open but bringing your awareness inside to the heart, as you continue to experience your life. This is an advanced practice because it asks you to hold your awareness inside with no external object per se, such as a mantra or pranayama. It is simply, and not so simply, the practice of keeping your attention “inside” while you live your life “outside”. This practice, we are taught in this Dharana, will naturally draw the pause between the breaths to us. In fact, the deeper inside we go inside, the bigger the experience of the pause between the breaths will become for us. The experience of this pause gives rise to spiritual energy described in the Dharana as “Nirvikalpakataya”, which refers specifically to the energy of the central vein, the Shushumna. The Dharana continues that when this practice is truly accomplished, “the energy of breath neither goes out nor enters in (na vrajet na viśet)”, meaning that the inbreath and out breath pause momentarily of their own accord. And here, in this space between the breaths, “one becomes one with Bhairava,” as Lakshmanjoo translates, “Bhairavarüpatà”.When the inbreath and out breath “fuse”, as Paul Reps teaches it, we have fused inner and outer realities, the essence of the Shambhavi Mudra. Which is perhaps why Reps describes the experience as an “energyless, energy-filled, center”— when inside and outside merge, empty and full become interchangeable terms— all that's left is energy. Which brings us back to the illumination of the central channel at the heart of this Dharana, Nirvikalpakataya, which as Swami Lakshmanjoo comments, “is already illuminated”. So we aren't filling ourselves with light, we are unveiling the light that's already there. As we sit with this Dharana, we don't start at the top, we work our way there. We can begin by focusing on establishing a natural breath flow, smoothing out the breath and using our mantra, like we did in Dharana 2. Once this is established, we can open the eyes softly, and start to use less and less effort to guide our breath, approaching Dharana 3. This opens the door to a deeper dive into the Shambhavi Mudra, as we start to witness our senses, and exert less and less effort towards them with each breath. We can explore the depths of this Dharana as we explore our capacity for the Shambhavi Mudra. As our attention truly does sink inside, while our awareness on the breath and senses remain open, what happens to the space between the breaths? Does it come to you? Does it expand? Is it easier to feel— how would you describe that ease?

In this exciting new class rotation, we explore stories and new ways of relating to the Deities of our lineage, followed by kirtan and meditation. A deeper connection to our Deities - these powerful, loving spiritual forces - is always available, and our relationship to them is ever-changing. (Text continues below video). Today's class is all about the jolly, elephant-headed remover of obstacles Deity, Ganesh. Sangha member Chaitanya offers insights into approaching Ganesh simultaneously as a sweet, innocent child as well as an unimaginably powerful force of the universe. Ganesh being the child of Shiva and Parvati/Shakti, Chaitanya explains how befriending a child and gaining their trust is a guaranteed way to win over the affections of the mother. In this way, reaching out to Ganesh sincerely and directly (as a child would reach out to their mother) is one way to connect to Shiva/Shakti, our Inner Self, Universal Consciousness. We can also think of Ganesh as representing the wish to grow, what lineage teacher Rudi called “the most powerful force in the universe.” Like Ganesh, the wish to grow sits right in our hearts, and is a pure, innocent and unwavering longing of the heart. When we reach out to Ganesh before starting any puja or practice, we can do so with our sincere desire to grow, asking for his guidance and support. Building this connection with Ganesh will strengthen us on our journey of spiritual growth, and ultimately has the power to take us directly to union with our Inner Self.

The pause between the breath gives us an anchor of stillness amidst the constant fluctuations of mind and karma. Because the breath is as ceaseless as manifestation is infinite— and flowing with our breath, like flowing with our karma, takes practice and surrender. This is why the pause between the breath is such a resource helping us find and unite with this flow. The pause between the breath isn't separate from the breath, but it is what unites the inhale and exhale into a fluid experience. The Shiva Sutras describe this as a type of “Triple Awareness”, awareness that goes beyond just the inhale and exhale, beyond duality, and encompasses the in-between space. “When you fix your awareness not only in two, but in three, you are carried to God consciousness and you become one with Svacchanda.32 (Svacchanda Tantra) What is the meaning of “triple awareness”? The verse tells us there must be triple awareness, not just awareness of two. Awareness of two is the awareness of two actions, such as inhaling and exhaling. Triple awareness includes the junction, the gap, between any two actions, between inhaling and exhaling and between exhaling and inhaling. It is the junction between one step and another step, between one thought and another thought, between one sensation and another sensation, etc. When you are aware of the three centers, then you are carried to Svacchanda, to God-consciousness.” Feeling the space between the breath is actually a means of feeling the breath itself— because triple awareness doens't mean awareness of three, it means awareness of one. Duality is awareness of two, of inhale and exhale as separate, of like and dislike, accepting and rejecting. Non-duality posits a third option, that of surrender— this is what allows us to feel the breath as a flow, instead of just separate parts. The reason it is called ‘triple awareness' is because this experience of surrender always exists within the realm of duality—duality is what we are surrendering in order to feel unity. So the pause between our breaths isn't a separate practice, but a deeper practice, of breath awareness. The pause, though, is elusive. If you think of our breath as a swinging pendulum, inhaling as it swings one way, exhaling as it swings the other way— the still point is almost mathematically impossible to calculate. This is because as the pendulum swings to one side, its distance towards that end point keeps getting exponentially smaller— Like slicing a cake in half, then fourths, then eighths, then sixteenths, then thirty-seconds, and so on— when will the cake slices become so small they disappear? When does the inhale become the exhale? Math and the mind can't tell us exactly, but of course with a little practice we can all experience it for ourself. Meditation lets us directly experience a reality that our mind simply can't comprehend. To support our path to the pause between the breath, this triple awareness that yields an experience of one-ness and unity, we are taught to watch the breath turn, to watch it taper down and taper up around this infinitely small yet existent pause. In this way we allow the pause to arrive within us, which is the only way to fully experience it. On our meditation cushion this would look like watching the exhale dissolve into stillness, and then watching the inhale spring up from that same stillness. Then watching the inhale almost levitate into a pause, and then the exhale rains down like a fine mist. When we pay attention to the tapering edges of our breath, the pause comes to us vibrantly. In our daily life this is possible too, as each experience of our day has a creation, maintenance and dissolution phase. In Sanskrit the dissolving phase is called a Nimesha, and the arising phase is called an Unmesha. When we watch the tapering edges of a situation beginning or ending, we naturally become more present during the activity, and the space between the activities. We do this for kids all the time, telling them that we'll be leaving the playground in 10 minutes, then five minutes, then another five minutes, then ‘this is the last thing', then another ‘last thing', then the playground is dissolved fully as we drive home. It's not easy for kids and its not easy for us, but its not only possible, but essential for our health, consciousness and bliss. We unconsciously relate to the space between breaths and events in our life as a void, which makes it sound empty, but when that void is described by lineage texts and teachings it is anything but, which is why the Vijnana bhairava teaches that “This [liminal] state, which is absolutely pure and filled with universal consciousness, fills the whole universe with bliss. (Vijñānabhairava Tantra 15)”Further, when we can maintain our awareness on the two ‘voids', there is an ‘upsurge' of energy in our Shushumna, which then causes 'the formation of Bhairava [to be] revealed', meaning that awareness of this liminal space causes a rise in spiritual energy and an awareness of our true nature. Paul Reps once wrote that when we pause we overflow like a well from within— which is a vivid description of this ancient process. So we see that the space between our breaths and our activities is not empty, it is actually the potential energy into which the entire universe both dissolves and from which it rises.

This class revisits the Vijnana Bhairava's progressive training of awareness, particularly focusing on Dharana 2, which introduces the turns and curves of the breath. By following the turns and curves of the breath closely, we naturally arrive at the Shakti filled experience of the pause without doership. The is not only essential on our cushion, as well as in our lives by paying attention to the "turns" of our day and arriving more consciously in each experience. We will use this material as inspiration for a longer free write session on the topic, and then share it with each other, in our pursuit of cultivating our creative consciousness.

The Vijnana Bhairava is a ceaseless pulsation, and the first practices of the Vijnana Bhairava take us through a progressive training of awareness in order to use that pulsation to reveal our true nature. Dharana one teaches us to focus on the pulsation itself in the form of Ham and Sah, Dharana two introduces the turning point of our breath, a moment of pauseless presence. Dharana three dives deeper into that pause, and Dharana four leans into it. It should always be noted that the pause between the breath should feel as natural as breathing itself— anything less and we're missing the point. Pranayama is no more about controlling our breath than Hatha yoga is about controlling our body. It is a means by which we enter the flow of the breath, just like Hatha yoga is how we start to move more harmoniously with our body. This means that our work with the pauses should always feel natural, and if it doesn't, each of us has to be open to taking a step back in order to find a sustainable path forward. Dharana 2: Reps: “As breath turns from down to up, and again as breath curves from up to down—through both these turns, realize.”So as we see here, we begin to explore the pause not by seeking a pause, but by watching it turn. You can imagine a pendulum swinging in one direction, and if you watch it closely enough, it slows and turns and begins to swing in the other direction, did it stop? When did it stop? The math of this moment proves to be quite complex— as it approaches the end of the swing the speed gets slower and slower, the movement smaller and smaller, and the pause that takes place before it turns around is almost imperceptible, and mathematically almost impossible to predict. It would be like slicing a cake in Half, then quarter, then eighths, then sixteenths, then thirty-seconds, and sixty fourths, and so on, the slices of movement getting smaller and smaller as the pendulum approaches the end, almost infinitely. Which is why watching this turn can give us a glimpse of the infinite. Jai Deva Singh comments on the Sutra that at this point the inhale and exhale cease, and what occurs is an upsurge of energy in the Shushumna: “By the anusandhāna or one-pointed awareness of these two pauses, the mind becomes introverted, and the activity of both prâna and apâna ceases, and there is the upsurge of madhya dasa i.e. the path of the madhya nadi or shushumna becomes open.”But this is not a state we can grasp with our minds, or our bodies— as the math showed us. This is a state that arrives as we watch the turn with pauseless effort, or “Uninterrupted awareness”, as Swami Lakshmanjoo described it— meaning that we must be pauselessly present in order to actually feel this turn take place, and in that pauseless presence we perceive our True nature, “When you maintain uninterrupted awareness of these two voids, by this way of treading on this process the formation of Bhairava is revealed.”This is why the Dharana teaches us to focus on the turning, the slowing, the changing, as a way of cultivating pauseless presence. It can be very productive to approach this concept progressively, first in body, then in breath. To help us really notice the ‘turn' we can incorporate Robin's breath, and work physically to make the end of each movement come to an almost invisible end before turning in the opposite direction. After a few repetitions with the arms, we can continue with the same pranayama, using a little effort to keep our breath long and smooth, like it was with robins breath, allowing us to hone in on the imperceptible ‘turn' of the breath. Homework: Taking this Dharana into your life means noticing the ‘turns' of your day— all the in between moments when you are going in one direction with one activity, and then as that comes to an end, are going in a new direction with another activity. The spaces between the breaths are like the spaces between the activities of our life. In Sanskrit, these turns are described as Unmesha and Nimesha. It can be easiest to understand these by looking at the seasons. Summer and Winter represent the inhale and exhale, the two phases that we oscillate between. In between these two polar opposites are transitional turns we call fall and spring. Fall is the turn that takes summer into winter, and Spring is the turn that takes us from winter into summer. Paying attention to these turns can help us arrive more consciously in the experience that is either coming our way, or fading away. On a practical level, this means paying more attention to the turns of your day, between your activities. Such as the space after this class, and before whatever is next for you. The turn that is your morning commute, for example, how do you engage your awareness there so that you truly arrive when you arrive? Or the turn on your way back from work, so that when you get home you can be totally present? Waking up is a turn from sleeping to waking life, and going to bed is also another turn in our schedule. What we bring to these turns usually indicates what our next activity will be like for us. What are your turns throughout the day? How do you use your practice to engage your awareness in them naturally and effectively? We will revisit this as a writing prompt next week for our Creative Consciousness Class, but it will only make your work next week more fruitful if you take time to bring this practice into your life, as well as your cushion, leading up to that class.

“Think of the breath as a vehicle rather than a jackhammer. Often students use the breath too strongly... You will not be using the breath to cut the rock open. Instead, the breath is a vehicle that you are riding on, and you are consciously feeling it move through the chakras, or at least to experience where they are. For example, when you take a breath in, you can feel the heart chakra. You do not try to tear and rip it open with willfulness. The breath is like a massage, and as you exhale you surrender all the negativity that gets kicked up. When students are able to be open and simple with their breath, they realize that watching the breath is not the same as trying to control it. The pranayama within the breath is simply flowing with the breath.”We see at the beginning of the quote that there is a tendency in all of us to use the breath too strongly, like a jackhammer attempting to simply cut our resistance in half with a deep breath. Instead, we are taught to put our conscious energy and will into relaxing enough to feel the breath flowing within us— and when we do that our tension falls away, revealing a lighter state that is already within us. The practice of pranayama, or a breath based meditation, can sometimes be challenging to access when we are experiencing a strong tension, as Anju referred to last week in her presentation. Trying to go right from a tough day into your meditation practice can sometimes not feel productive—like trying to climb a ten foot wall— but should remember that the yogic tradition has given us a stair case to walk up whenever we need it. From the general arc of the Uppays themselves, to the Koshas, to Patanjali's 8 limbs of yoga, and so on— everywhere we look we see a step by step approach to getting our mechanism moving from the physical to the subtle and beyond. Learning to surrender at the physical level through hatha yoga and Seva guide us to work with more surrender at the level of the breath, which also guides us to profound stillness of the mind and opening of the heart. Step by step is how we arrive at our destination in the yogic tradition, and the first step is learning how to work with surrender at the level of the physical body. Similar to the practice of pranayama, which begins by shaping the breath, Hatha yoga begins by shaping the body. But like pranayama, the shapes are not the goal— the shapes exist to generate inner sensation and awareness. As Shiva says in the introduction to the Vijnana bhairava, the flame is there to put the kettle on it, the techniques are there to heat and grow our inner awareness. This is crucial both for using our asana practice to grow, but also avoiding injury. Because without inner awareness, the postures are just exercise, or worse injurious— as injuries such as hamstring tendonitis and hip labral impingements in the overly physical yoga community have shown us. As the Shiva Sutras teach, the body, mind and senses can be the source of our growth— or they can be the very things that bind and limit us, depending on the fullness of our awareness. Hatha yoga helps us surrender tightness in our body in the same way a mantra helps us surrender tightness in our mind. Each posture is like a mantra, in that you put your awareness into it, feeling it effect you, and you keep coming back to it as the mind wanders. The tightness we feel in our bodies are what we work with— we don't push the tightness away, or become obsessed with changing it, we simply apply our awareness to the posture and our breath and allow the contracted states to fall away. Just like Babaji said about the breath— controlling it is not the same as watching it and flowing with it. We aren't here to control our body with hatha yoga, we are here to get in the flow of our body, to move more naturally, and this is accomplished with the tools of the asanas and the elixir of inner awareness. The experience of surrender we seek in our postures, as Patanjali taught it, is a feeling of effortless effort, of perseverance without tension. In this way, he wrote, the practitioner transcends the duality of physical existence, and experiences the infinite. This is how yoga guides us towards a more surrendered experience of our breath, mind and heart— one step at a time.

“When that flash of awareness arises, when I can say “aha” this is just a feeling and not who I am, then I can move into a place of gentle action…I can't just jump form a force field of resistance to my cushion and find meditation. I have to take baby steps putting one foot in front of the other and walk myself to my inner seat, to my Self. I have to practice Pratyahara, and for me the most successful way I have been able to find this is to lean into my hatha yoga practice.”One of my favorite moments in Anju's presentation was how she described moving through resistance with “gentle action”— this seems like a great way to understand surrender, both at the level of the body, but also the breath and beyond. Gentle action means taking action while remaining gently receptive. “Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless, like water.”We tend to think of gentle as weak, but gentle means receptive, sensitive. If you were trying to massage soreness out of a muscle, you would need to do it gently in order to find the source of the soreness and move through it consciously. And as we know with muscles, sometimes you have to apply more force, but even that must be gentle and gradual as too much too soon has the opposite effect— causing the muscle to recoil and double down on its contracted state. This is perhaps why Babaji has been so adamant the last couple years about the contradictory effects of doership in our meditation practice— and has placed so much emphasis instead on natural calm breaths. “Think of the breath as a vehicle rather than a jackhammer. Often students use the breath too strongly... You will not be using the breath to cut the rock open. Instead, the breath is a vehicle that you are riding on, and you are consciously feeling it move through the chakras, or at least to experience where they are. For example, when you take a breath in, you can feel the heart chakra. You do not try to tear and rip it open with willfulness. The breath is like a massage, and as you exhale you surrender all the negativity that gets kicked up. When students are able to be open and simple with their breath, they realize that watching the breath is not the same as trying to control it. The pranayama within the breath is simply flowing with the breath.”We see at the beginning of the quote that there is a tendency in all of us to use the breath too strongly, like a jackhammer attempting to simply cut our resistance in half. In our meditation practice this would look like taking deep strong breaths with the intention of opening our heart and getting past this tension. In everyday life this is when we might grit our teeth and work faster, only to burn out and drop the whole thing when we run out os steam. Babaji teaches here that its actually more effective to not treat the breath as an external tool that cuts through our resistance, but rather we should try to merge with it internally and let the flow of the breath itself dissolve our tensions. When we are experieinceing resistance and tension this can be one of the hardest things to do, because it requires us to begin to loosen up, soften our clenched jaw for example, relax our tense fore head, release the grip we have on ourselves trying to hold it all together— when we do that we might feel like we start to fall apart, but when done consciously, we actually fall into place. THis is the purpose of a Hatha yoga class, to guide students down teh path of surrender at th level of the physical body, so they can access deeper layers of surrender in the breath, mind, and heart. Patanjali's eight limbs of yoga establish a clear trajectory for the practice of surrender— surrender at the level of the body in the form of asana practice is a stepping stone to surrender at the level of the breath in the form of pranayama, which guides us naturally to surrender at the level of the mind and heart in meditation. Effortless effort is a teaching for the body, breath, mind and heart. This means that when we are really experienceing a strong tension or resistance, we must be willing to step back and apply our practice to the physical Kosha in order to really get our practice moving in the right direction. As we know about surrender in our practice, it does not mean becoming a doormat— just lying down, waving a white flag and saying ‘i give up'. If it were that easy I don't think we would have to practice it so much. Instead, we know that surrender is the process of consciously releasing a tension from the inside out. Surrender in the physical body is taught on the yoga mat through asana practice, and Patanjali's maxim to describe the work is “effortless effort, perseverance without tension”, which calls back to Anju's adept description of ‘gentle action'. So working with surrender in the physical body doesn't mean lying down in shavasana, although eventually we do apply it there, but rather physical surrender in the form of asana practice is learning to move the body in a way that helps you flow with it, not against it. Surrender isn't cutting anything into pieces, it's harmonizing and getting in the flow. As Babaji says, surrendering with the breath is different than controlling the breath, and the same goes with the body. Surrender in the body doesn't mean controlling the body by putting it into this or that shape and expecting some external result, but rather surrender on our mats means we are guiding our body towards a certain shape in order to get into the flow with it.And when done well, this gives us a very tactile experience of how to breathe with the flow, we literally can move with our breath like we move with our body. The breath becomes a bridge from the physical to the subtle experience of surrender.

Patanjali's Yoga Sutra 1.17: Through self-enquiry the practitioner gains insight, but eventually all mental logic must come to an end in bliss. Following that is the comprehension that all is the Self (yoga). In our previous two classes, we have taken time to invest in the ‘inquiry' portion of the creative process, generating insight through Satsang teachings from Sri ShambhavAnanda and Swami Rudrananda, as well as the Shiva Sutras and Vijnana Bhairava. But, as Patanjali teaches, we will take more time to let that logic come to an end in Bliss as we write and reflect a little more, as well as one more key element to the creative process— Sharing! Sharing our writing with felling sangha members will allow us to both be supported and inspired by our fellow creative yogis, as well as bring us one more step closer to real comprehension of this process as a whole— the yogic experience of creativity. Thanks for being a part of the creative process with us! Namaste!

When we make a work of art, we hope that it speaks of an experience beyond the page it is read upon, or canvas painted upon, or ears it falls upon. Art strives to describe a universal experience, yet it is always of an individual thing— a landscape, a deity, a song, a character. The creative process is a dance of working with an individual manifestation of Shakti to describe an undivided experience of Shiva. It is no coincidence that our reality, and our meditation practice, is described as a dance— creativity takes us back and forth between shiva and Shakti endlessly. We see this dance of awareness in the Vijnana Bhairava as Shiva and Shakti discuss the path we must tread in our practice. “This is the journey we have to do, the journey we have to do in the field of Shakti, not in the field of Shiva [where] there is no journey (17)…For instance, [fire has many different manifesations]–lightening, giving light, burning, heating–but these energies [aka manifestations of fire] are undifferentiated with fire. [The important thing to remember is that these different manifestations are used] just to enter in that state of fire, to put a kettle on it. (19)… So the path is Shakti, the path is not Shiva. (20)… Shiva is understood by Shakti (21).”When we work with intention we are working to describe our true nature, Shiva, through a specific manifestation of it, Shakti. We are trying to describe the infinite with the finite, and this is the journey the Vijnana Bhairava describes. In the quote we see the example of Fire. Fire has a fundamental energy, something that is in the background of all manifestations of fire. In terms of writing or creating with a prompt or intention, this might look like writing about ‘surrender'. To write about it you have to point to certain small maniestations of surrender in your life, small ways that you have uncovered the bigger concept— because no matter what you do, you can't quite write about surrender in a way that doesn't somehow diminish it. Does this mean the act of creating is always limited? Absolutely not, in fact, it is sometimes the only way we ever experience boundless freedom in the horizontal reality— art is a time when people really open up, and let something higher flow through. So we may not be able to capture surrender in our writing or art, yet we can feel surrender while we write about it and let it come through. In this way, our artwork may only be about one small example of surrender, but the actual piece itself will be imbued with surrender. We used the act of writing about surrender to do the real act of surrender, and in that way we grew and our creation gained life. As the Sutra says, we use the cooking flame to heat the kettle— we use the prompt or intention to explore the greater concept, and we use the act of exploring to grow spiritually. This is one way of understanding how we use the path of Shakti to find Shiva. “I went to see the Mona Lisa at the llouve. It was jammed with a lot of people, everybody trying to jam past everybody. And I just took a breath, everything in my mind got quiet and around me, and I could feel the incredible flow that created this wonderful piece of art. But we don't tend to look at art that way, we analyze it too much, saying ‘well that's imperfect, and that line or color is not right.' We're missing what its all about— the creative Spirit, always comes from beyond. Just like on Monday nights (laughs).”

Jai Deva Sing notes at the end of Dharana 1 that there is an important interpretation of the Dharana still to be considered- that this is the essential teaching of the breath meditation practice “Ham Sah”. The recitation of Ham Sah is an exploration of the ceaseless pulsation of the Goddess Shakti in our lives, a way of observing the pulsation of reality. The meaning of the mantra can only be discovered by listening, by letting the breath move naturally as Shambhavananda and Muktananda teach, which we are taught is the path itself of this practice.Jai Deva Singh (commentary on Dharana 1): “There is another important interpretation of this dhärana.In inhalation, the sound of ha is produced; in exhalation, thesound sah is produced; at the junction point in the centre thesound of m is added. So the whole formula becomes 'Hamsah'.The paradevi goes on sounding this formula or mantra ceaselesslyin every living being.”Swami Lakshmanjoo commentary on Dharana 1:When you take your breath inside, the recitation of ‘ha' will end in ‘ṁ'. When you take it out, [the recitation of ‘sa'] will end in visarga–‘saḥ'. And, in these two starting points, if you concentrate, you will become one with Bhairava because of its fullness.”Swami Muktananda from his book “I am That “This is what we also need to understand. Hamsa is not a mantra that you merely repeat. What you have to do is become established in the awareness of the mantra going on inside you, in the goal of the mantra, in the pulsation which exists in the space where the syllables arise and subside…”Sri ShambhavAnanda on the practice of breath awareness: “Instead of forcibly trying to control your breath, develop the ability to experience and witness it. Follow your natural breath flow and attach it to the mantra “Ham Sah”. A person breathes approximately 26,000 times a day. If you can be aware of your inhalation and exhalation, you will make progress in meditation. When you can control your breath, you can control your mind. But first you have to become aware of the breath. Don't use any forceful practices. Make friends with your breath and be aware of what it is doing in different situations. When you have a certain experience such as fear, anger, or bliss, you will find that your breath will concentrate in a certain area. If you start to pay attention, you will gain some wisdom.”

In our previous class we took time to introduce the concept of Dharana as a method of concentration, as well as to reiterate that this focal point is meant to merge us with a state of being that is beyond the focus of our eyes or mind. Each dharana is a stepping stone to our state of being. We took time to sit with Paul Reps' translation of the first Dharana, which is always so succinct and useful for meditation. His translation seemed to emphasize the practice of keeping our focus in the heart as we noticed the inhale come down and in, and then the exhale go up and out. Radiant one, this experience may dawn between two breaths. After breath comes in (down) and just before turning up (out)—the beneficence.”Let's practice that now for a moment…We will continue to work with each of Paul Reps' translations of the Dharanas, but there is also rich soil to uncover in the less abridged translations of Jai Deva Singh, as well as the commentary's of Swami Lakshmanjoo. These translations showed opened the door to a few subtle details to the text— for example, that the visarga, the “:” notation in Sanskrit that indicates the addition of breath after a vowel sound, actually represents the two focal points of our breath, the heart and the dvadashanta. The point the exhale ends is specifically called the dvadashanta, an invisible point in space meant to represent the distance your breath travels outside of you. You can find this point, the text tells us, by measuring 12 finger widths from the tip of the nose. Be sure to measure with the angle of your nose, slightly downward, and you'll find that this point is 8 or so inches in front of our physical heart. When you breathe out with a little bit of force, you can easily feel this as the end point of your exhale. As the breath moves back and forth between these points, life is projected and created, which is why the word Visarga means projection or creation. As Shakti is literally the projected or created universe, this verse describes the nature of Shakti as the same as Visarga, as an ceaseless oscillation between these two points, specifically in the form of the inhale and exhale. “Para devi or Highest Sakti who is of the nature of visarga goes on (ceaselessly) expressing herself upward (ürdhve), from the centre of the body to dvdasanta (or a distance of twelve fingers), in the form of exhalation (präna) and downward (adhah), from dvadasanta to the centre of the body, in the form of inhalation (jiva or apâna).By steady fixation of the mind (bharanat) at the two places of their origin (the center of the body in the case of prāna, and dvadasänta in the case of apâna) there is the situation of plenitude (bharitästhitih which is the state of parasakti or nature of Bhairava).”Let's try that practice now for a moment…We will continue to explore this practice today, and describe its relationship to our breath meditation practice, Ham Sah. It should be noted that Swami Lakshmanjoo and Paul Reps were contemporaries, and that Jai Deva Singh was Swami Lakshmanjoo's student. As the Zen saying goes, each one is best. Paul Reps, of course, was a dear friend of Sri Shambahvananda, our living teacher. Sri Shambhavananda also met with Swami Lakshmanjoo in India, and speaks highly of him as well. I mention this because it is so special to be able to study these texts and know that they are tied to the fabric of our lineage in a way— and that they are approved by Sri Shambhavananda for study. Today, this is a commonly overlooked aspect of spiritual practice, but for Shambhavananda Yogis, it is important to know the yogi behind the words you are reading. We open our hearts in this class, and trust these individuals in a very deep and subtle way— being able to trust the text is of paramount importance for my own work. “The outgoing breath is called prana,and the incoming breath is called apana. Apana is also called jiva, the individual soul, because only when the apana enters the body can it be said that the soul is in the body. If the prana goes out and the apana doesn't come back in, then the body is nothing but a corpse.” (I Am That)The Dharana continues: By steady fixation of the mind at the two places of their origin (viz., centre of the body in the case of prāna and dvadasänta in the case of apâna) there is the situation of plenitude.It can be misleading to think of these as two separate points, though, as if one were the beginning and the other the end. For the Yogi, inside and outside, Shiva and Shakti, are simultaneous, as light and a flame are simultaneous. We may begin our practice by moving back and forth between these two points, but the teachings of this lineage point to a another stage in the practice where the two points merge into one— an experience of the pulsation of our very being. As Swami Muktananda describes it:As you watch the breathcoming in and going out,you will become aware that when it comes in, it comes in to a distance of twelve fingersand merges.The place where it mergesis called hridaya, the heart.The breath merges here,and then it arises againand goes out to a distance of twelve fingersand merges in the space outside.That outer spaceis called dvadashanta, the external heart.Here, the heart does not mean the physical organ. The heart is the place where the breath merges, inside and outside.In reality, these two places are one.But as we have seen in the preface, this experience takes practice— only when the inside and outside dissolve can “a sense of non-dualism” dawn in us. So we watch the inhale, then we watch the exhale, back and forth, trying to keep our awareness surrendered in order to feel these “two places as one”, to experience the greater pulsation that is occurring between them.

“It is an ancient teaching, copied and recopied countless times, and from it Lakshmanjoo has made the beginnings of an English version. I transcribe it eleven more times to get it into the form given here.”Shiva first chanted it to his consort Devi in a language of love we have yet to learn. It is about the immanent experience. It presents 112 ways to open the invisible door of consciousness. I see Lakshmanjoo gives his life to its practicing. Some of the ways may appear redundant, yet each differs from any other. Some may seem simple, yet any one requires constant dedication even to test it. Machines, ledgers, dancers, athletes balance. Just as centering or balance augments various skills, so it may awareness. As an experiment, try standing equally on both feet; then imagine you are shifting your balance slightly from foot to foot: just as balance centers, do you.”A Dharana is a focal point, a method of practice. We use a dharana to find our center, but our center is not in the dharana, our center is in our own state of being. That's why the preface to the Vijnana Bhairava took so much time explain that techniques are just the doorway, not the destination. It may be helpful to look at Patanjali's explanation of the word Dharana as well, to see the transition we make from focal point to experience:3.1-3.4Dharana, or concentration, is the act of fixing the mind on one thing. Here there is a perceived separation between the object and the practitioner. Dhyana, or meditation, is when the focus of dharana becomes a steady, uninterrupted flow of attention. Here the separation between the practitioner and the object dissolves. Samadhi is when, in the practice of dhyana, both the practitioner and the object of focus dissolve into the Self. Then there is no such thing as practitioner or object, only absorption in the Self. These three limbs are grouped together because the difference between them is very slight, they may not all happen in a clear sequence, and they may intermingle. Together they comprise a practice called sanyama (integration). So once again we see the path we must tread, from an outer object of focus, to an uninterrupted flow of awareness, to our state of being. This recalls the original question from Shakti/Devi at the start of the preface, what is the path we must tread to our enlightenment? And after 8 classes together, Shiva answers quite simply— Energy is the path we must tread. These techniques are ways of helping us work with energy— they may begin on the horizontal level, but ultimately they exist to guide us on a vertical plane. With this we can begin the Dharanas themselves, via Paul Reps translation:“DEVI SAYS: O Shiva, what is your reality? What is this wonder-filled universe? What constitutes seed? Who centers the universal wheel? What is this life beyond form pervading forms? How may we enter it fully, above space and time, names and descriptions? Let my doubts be cleared! SHIVA REPLIES: (Devi, though already enlightened, has asked the foregoing questions so others through the universe might receive Shiva's instructions. Now follow Shiva's reply, giving the 112 ways.) 1. Radiant one, this experience may dawn between two breaths. After breath comes in (down) and just before turning up (out)—the beneficence.”Para devi or Highest Sakti who is of the nature of visargagoes on (ceaselessly) expressing herself upward (ürdhve) (from the centre of the body to dvdasanta, or a distance of twelve fingers, in the form of exhalation (präna) and downward (adhah) (from dvadasanta to the centre of the body) in the form of inhalation (jiva or apâna). By steady fixation of the mind (bharanat) at the two places of their origin (viz., centre of the body in the case of prāna and dvadasänta in the case of apâna, there is the situation of plenitude (bharitästhitih which is the state of parasakti or nature of Bhairava).This Dharana has points that we will unpack together:Shakti is the nature of Visarga and expresses herself in two points, the center of the body and the dvadashantaBy steady fixation on these two points there is an experience of plentitudeThis practice is known as Ham SahPara devi or Highest Sakti who is of the nature of visarga goes on (ceaselessly) expressing herself upward (ürdhve) (from the centre of the body to dvdasanta, or a distance of twelve fingers, in the form of exhalation (präna) and downward (adhah) (from dvadasanta to the centre of the body) in the form of inhalation (jiva or apâna). We begin by seeing a term that may be new to you, ‘visarga' which is used in the Dharana to describe the nature of Shakti, of manifestation, as well as the movement of our inhale and exhale. Visarga is a Sanskrit sounds, a breath that is inserted after certain vowels and before certain consonants. For example, when we repeat the mantra Om Namah Shivaya, you've probably been taught or have noticed that there is a breath after the Namah, which I sometimes pronounced Nam-aha. That breath is an example of a Visarga sound.In Devanagari, this is represented by two dots, like a colon. These two dots are more than just a method of writing, but actually refer to the energetic destination points of the inhale and the exhale in our physical and subtle bodies. Yet another reason Sanskrit is such a profound language— it is born from the practice. The bottom dot represents the inhale, known as Apana, because it ends in the heart. The upper dot represents the exhale, known as Prana, because it ends outside the body, slightly above the heart.

Shakti is the face of Shiva, ie. we can only recognize Shiva by using our practice in the face of manifestation. When we feel a non-difference between these two, we acquire a state of Shiva, we enter the door of our true nature. “When in one who enters the state of Shakti, there ensues the feeling of non-distinction (bet-ween Shakti and Shiva), then that yogi acquires the state of Shiva, for inthe agamas, she (Sakti) is declared as the door of entrance (into Shiva) (Lit., Shakti is like Shiva's face)'”We work on our cushions, with our techniques, as preparation for our work in the face of manifestation, Shakti. We spend time looking inside so that we can look inside while we live outside. And vice versa, we go out into our lives in order to grow inside. Technique alone, meditation in a cave setting, or samsara alone, just going through the motions of life, are both missing the union of shiva and shakti, and it is in this union where growth happens. It is like a cooking flame and a kettle, they need each other to achieve their purpose. Together, they cook down our karma and extract the nourishment and growth. And it is this Union that is at the heart of this text, it is its title and its purpose. Shiva concludes the preface with an additional take on the metaphor given earlier, teaching that there is no shiva or shakti apart from one another, they are one in the same— “Just as by means of the light of a lamp, and the rays of the Sun, portions of space, etc, are known even so, Oh dear one, by means of Shakti is Shiva (one's own essential Self) cognized (i.e. re-cognized).”Jai Deva Singh helps us interpret this last line by looking at it from a few different perspectives:“There are three points suggested by this simile (1) Just as the flame of the lamp is not different from its light; just as the rays of the sun are not different from the sun, even so Shakti is not different from Siva…”This seems like an easy point to agree with and understand, but I feel there is a lot of work required for true recognition. When we are describing inert things like light, it is easy to agree that ‘this too is shiva', but when you have a misunderstanding with someone at work, and there is a lot of emotion, then it becomes much harder to find Shiva, a state of perfection, within what would otherwise feel very imperfect. This is because the ability to recognize Shiva within manifestation takes surrender, takes practice. When we apply our practice to all the various circumstances of our lives, only then, it seems, do we start to see all these circumstances as Shiva. As Swami Rudrananda teaches: “We must come to understand that everything is part of perfection and must be taken in in a state of surrender; it must be digested and transcended. Life must be consumed whole— with all its tensions, pain and joy. Only by surmounting a situation can we achieve the understanding, the nourishment, that that situation offers…My spirit grew by eating that which encompassed me.”(2) Just as through the lamp or the sun, objects of the world are perceived, even so through Shakti the universe is known. Point Two : This reiterates the earlier point that we recognize Shiva through SHaktik that Shakti is Shiva's face. The cooking flame needs the kettle, the kettle needs the cooking flame, they are two sides of one coin— the coin of digesting our karma and growing from it. (3) Just as to perceive the light of the lamp, another lamp is not required; just as to perceive the sun, another sun is not required; they are known by their own light. Even so, shiva is known by his Shakti who is not different from him.”The path of our practice, the path to the heart, is already within us. As Babaji said at the end of one of his satsang answers, “I am not giving you anything you do not already have. I am just making you aware of what is already there.” This path is more than personal, its our true nature. And it is the light of our own awareness that eventually illuminates this inner landscape— when the light of our awareness, which usually shines out, also shines back in. The Sutras and the lineage can point the way, can provide examples and direction, but the lights of this path are motion activated— only the footsteps of our practice can turn them on. We will eventually become enlightened not by someone else's work, but by our own work.

Though there are many forms of fire, from a cooking flame to a heating element, from lightening to the light of your room, all of these forms of fire belong to the same energy of fire— in the same way all the different forms of Shakti that we see around us are all forms of Shiva, they are non-different from Shiva. The analogy becomes even more profound, though, when Shiva teaches that the purpose of all these different forms is to ‘enter into that state of fire', or to enter into the state of Shiva. We use a cooking flame to heat a kettle, or a light to illuminate a room— we don't just sit there and look at the flame or light on its own— in this same way, Shiva suggests, we use meditation techniques to enter into the state of our true nature, not to just look at it or think about it. We took time at the end of class to consider times in our life when we simply don't believe that ‘this too is Shiva'— when a crazy driver cuts you off, for instance, or when you are so tired in the morning and don't have the energy to practice. Hopefully the study of this verse gave you the inspiration you needed to grow through that challenge— and perhaps you had an experience of discovering that ‘indeed, this too is Shiva.'[Time for sharing and discussion]The teachings of “this too is Shiva” continue with us into Verse 20 where we see a new analogy helping us to understand the non-dualistic possibility of “all this indeed being Shiva”…Verse 20: “When in one who enters the state of Shakti (i.e. who is identi-fied with Shakti), there ensues the feeling of non-distinction (bet-ween Shakti and Shiva), then that yogi acquires the state of Shiva, (for) inthe agamas (iha), she (Sakti) is declared as the door of entrance(into Shiva) (Lit., Shakti is like Shiva's face)'”When we sit with a murti, we are practicing uniting Shakti and shiva. The murti is an external object, yet as practitioners we know it is also a doorway to an inner experience. So we look softly externally while feeling softly internally. It's not automatic, it takes practice to see both, but as the text says, when you can feel shiva while perceiving Shakti, you acquire the state of your true nature. To help visualize this we can consider the principles of Prakasha and vimarhsa, which are fundamental aspects of Kashmir Shaivism. As the intro do Kashmir Shaivism teaches, “Kashmir Shaivism constructs a pure monism which assumes a single Reality with two aspects, Prakasha (lit. light, the principle of self-revelation) and Vimarsha (lit. experience, the self-consciousness which brings about the world process).” p. 3Prakasha is the light of awareness that emanates from us, like the light that emanates from the sun. Vimarsha is the reflection of that light off of an external object back to us— the power of self reflection. In physics we know that when we shine light on an object, it is the light that reflects back to us that we see. For example, when driving on a rainy night it can be hard to see the road in front of you because the light bounces forward on the shiney wet surface, instead of reflecting back to you— sometimes you even wonder if your headlights are even on at all. Shiva without Shakti is like that— light shining out without anything to reflect it back within. Shakti, Manifestation, is what makes it possible to recognize Shiva, our true nature. But only if you apply your practice, the practice of seeing shakti while feeling shiva.

The maxim, “Don't miss the forest for the trees” reminds us not to forget the big picture while we move through life's details, and has been a prevailing message in the preface to the Vijnana Bhairava— don't get too caught up in the technique, the path, and forget the goal. And the opposite also holds true— don't miss the trees for the forest— meaning, don't get so caught up in your study of the forest that you stop taking hikes and enjoying the forest. Don't get so star struck by the goal of meditation that you stop participating and growing through your life's karmic equation. Shiva and Shakti are these two inseparable sides of the same coin, Shiva is the ‘forest' you could say, a static concept that pervades our life fully, yet is not itself a physical aspect. And Shakti is the ‘trees', the infinite ways that the forest manifests all around us. Our goal, as yogis, is not to miss the forest or the trees, to participate in our lives fully while maintaining awareness of the goal in our hearts. Yoga means union, and this experience of union is the work of our practice. The Rudramalaya Tantra, the text in which the Vijnana Bhairava is situated, can be literally translated as ‘the union between shiva and Shakti', and this union is at the heart of the teachings in this preface. This union we seek is a dynamic experience, beyond the realm of thought yet directly experienceable in the form of our practice.For example, the breath is moving in and out of all the time. This is an example of Shakti, the movement of our life force. If we walk this path of Shakti skillfully, we will simultaneously experience the path and the destination— we will feel the breath (the path), and the present (the destination), together in unity. So even in the simplest practice of watching our breath do we have a direct experience of the unity of non-difference “dawning upon us” as JDS described it in the last section. As we move into quotes and the text, try to feel this union within you. You are listening and learning, yet simultaneously you are feeling your heart and the breath in the present. You are whole, and yet you are studying the parts and learning how to be ‘more whole', at the same time. You are on the path and destination simultaneously. Verse 17: “this state of Bhairava, which is sung in the Tantras, is really the supreme state of the Goddess, Pārvatī. But is there any difference of supremacy? Is there a difference of supreme-ness between Lord Śiva and Pārvatī?”Intro to KS: “[Shiva and Shakti] are consciousness and the power of consciousness. They appear simultaneously and are eternally related…The subject and object must be considered separately for the purpose of explanation, but it should always be remembered that both are present simultaneously. One is always predominant in the same way that a coin has two sides which can be seen, but only one at a time. These two factors are the first two tattvas in the process of cosmic evolution and are technically called the Shiva Tattva and the Shakti Tattva.”Verse 18: Since there is always non-difference between Sakti and possessor of sakti (Saktimän) therefore being endowed with His attributes Sakti becomes the bearer of the same attributes. Therefore being non-different from para (the highest i.e. Bhairava) she is known as para (the highest i.e. Bhairavi). “Because, for instance, when there is fire, its energy can be for burning, cooking, or lighting a room. All these energies are owned by fire, but those energies– lightening, giving light, burning, heating— but these energies are undifferentiated with fire. These energies are not different from fire…It is just to enter in that state of fire, i.e., to put a kettle on it…So, [in the same way], [the path of shakti] is to enter in the state of Lord Śiva.”Guru Gita Verse 97: Idam Eva Shivam, Tvidam Eva Shivam, Tvidam Eva Shivam, Tvidam Eva Shivam. Mama Shasanato, Mama Shasanato, Mama Shasanato, Mama ShasanataIndeed, this is Shiva. Indeed, this too, is Shiva. Indeed, this too, is Shiva. Indeed, this too, is Shiva. This is my teaching. This is my teaching. This is my teaching. This is my teaching. Journal Prompt: When do you need help remembering that “This too is Shiva in your day and practice?”

Episode Note: When we bring our attention inside, do we miss out on what's happening around us? When we draw our awareness within, do we become reclusive or do we become inclusive?Take a moment to pull your awareness within, picture a single point in the center of your chest. Let your awareness be guided there with each breath in, and let that space gently expand with each breath out. The inhale pulls your awareness inside to that single point in the heart, and as you exhale you keep your attention there and allow that single point to expand. Now try to keep your awareness there as you read/listen to this story:No Loving-KindnessTHERE WAS an old woman in China who had supported a monk for over twenty years. She had built a little hut for him and fed him while he was meditating. Finally she wondered just what progress he had made in all this time.To find out, she obtained the help of a girl rich in desire. “Go and embrace him,” she told her, “and then ask him suddenly: ‘What now?'”The girl called upon the monk and without much ado caressed him, asking him what he was going to do about it. “An old tree grows on a cold rock in winter,” replied the monk somewhat poetically. “Nowhere is there any warmth.”The girl returned and related what he had said.“To think I fed that fellow for twenty years!” exclaimed the old woman in anger. “He showed no consideration for your need, no disposition to explain your condition. He need not have responded to passion, but at least he should have evidenced some compassion.”She at once went to the hut of the monk and burned it down.In the story we saw that meditation should not make you reclusive or exclusive, but deeply inclusive. It should not make you dispassionate, but compassionate. And if your meditation practice is not making you more open, warmer, and inclusive, then watch out! Because the universe might have to wake you up like this old woman in China did for her meditating friend. And we can check in with ourselves— how's it going with having your attention inside while listening to the story, or to this portion of the talk? Are you missing anything, or are you gaining so much more? For me, having my attention inside in these classes is how we turn water into wine, so to speak. Sure, there is amazing benefits from the philosophy on paper, but when you use the philosophy to open up inside, what you taste is real nectar. So the inside not only doesn't cut you off from the outside, it makes the outside blissful, as we will see in the following sections from the VB. We know this as the Shambhavi Mudra, the ability to have our attention inside while navigate our external lives. But its not enough to say that we simply navigate our lives better through meditation, that meditation helps us survive— although it does— but really its what enables us to thrive, and to find joy on our journey as we live it. It makes life both fun and functional. As Sri Shambhavananda teaches, “A truly spiritual person is loving and compassionate and can function very well in just about any situation. People who have those qualities don't need anything special to find happiness. They have found it in themselves, and they share it freely and gladly with anyone who comes around.”Verse 15: “That state of Bhairava which is full of the bliss of non-difference from the entire universe (bharitākära) is alone Bhairava or Sakti of Bhairava.”Verse 16: “That should, in verity, be known as Bhairava's essential nature,immaculate (vimalam) and inclusive of the entire universe (visvapuranam).”Verse 16 commentary, JDS: Ksemaraja says in his commentary that Bhairava's essential nature has been characterized as vimala (immaculate) because though it manifests the universe on its own screen, ti is not veiled by itVerse 16 cont.: “Such being the state of Reality, who can be the object of worship, who is to be satisfied with worship.”Verse 16 commentary, JDS: “When the essential nature of Bhairava is recognized as our own inmost self, the distinction between the worshipper and the worshipped disappears and there dawns a sense of non-dualism.”

A recent holiday movie began with the question, “Do people really change? Like real lasting positive change? I hope so, because we are in the business of change.” In classic holiday theme, an angelic character seeks to change a Scrooge for good. But the twist occurs when we see that the only way for the angel to change scrooge is if the angel also changes themself. And as the story progresses we see that this internal change on the Angel's behalf is ultimately the only thing that touches the heart of our Scrooge. Inner change, we see, is the only path to lasting change. As New Years approaches, we are all in the midst of making a resolution or two, hoping to change this or that aspect of ourselves or our lives. Studies show, though, that only 9-12% of people keep their New Years Resolutions. At first this might seem depressing, but I actually find it amazing— 1 out of every 10 people change an aspect of themselves for good? Wow, that's amazing! Because Yogi's are in the business of change, it's at the very root of all we do in our practice— growth is change. Essentially we Practice in order to change our small self into our Highest Self, the Inner Self. And for anyone who has put time into their daily practice, they know that change takes a lot of work. It's sort of like in baseball where if someone strikes out 6 out of every 10 at bats, they are actually considered an MVP, hitting 400 percent of the time. Change is difficult, change is powerful, and change is what we are here to do. Even the simplest step of spiritual growth changes our lives dramatically— sitting 1-2 times per day isn't a matter of adding another item to your calendar, it's about changing your entire calendar— ie. to get up earlier you have to go to bed earlier, to have a productive evening sit you have to adjust your evening activities, and so on. And when you finally do arrive on the cushion, we see that even the simplest level of change— that of redirecting our awareness from a pesky thought to a sacred mantra—requires a deep internal and sustained effort. Every aspect of our practice requires that we interact directly with change. And for that reason, yogis tend to view change with reverence and awe. The Guru Gita gives us a glimpse of the yogic perspective of change— change is nothing short of a transformation, like that of a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly, or a larva into a bee. The Guru Gita writes, “Just as a larva transforms into a bee, similarly, through meditation, one is transformed into that state in which one may abide anywhere.” (118) Change takes place at an atomic level, when we grow everything grows, it's an experience that goes beyond the mind and senses. This is why the Vijnana Bhairava takes so much time to teach us that change can't come from the mind, because what we are changing into is “beyond the limitation of space, time, and formation. It has no space, It has no time, It has no form–It is beyond that, beyond these three…this state is, in fact, indescribable, It can't be described.” The mind can describe and anticipate change, but the mind itself cannot comprehend the growth and transformation associated with change. The Vijnana Bhairava teaches “That state [Our True Nature] is not the object of vikalpas, It can't be perceived by vikalpas (thoughts). You can't perceive It through the mind…[Bhairavī] has gone above [becoming] the object of thoughts.” Thoughts, vikalpas, are inherently limited— they know reality by breaking up reality into parts, but all these parts are not equal to the whole, ie. We can't know the experience of the whole from its disparate parts. Try driving a car by putting all the parts in a room, or eating a pie separated into its ingredients on a counter— the parts do not equal the whole, there is a chemical change that must take place. As Jai Deva Singh comments in his exposition notes, “It is when we cling to the part that we miss the whole, that is [the moment] when we stumble” (Note 3). Or as Patanjali teaches in his Yoga Sutras, “Through self-enquiry the practitioner gains insight, but eventually all mental logic must come to an end in bliss. Following that is the comprehension that all is the Self (yoga).” (1.17) The mind can point us towards change, but change and growth themself are something beyond the mind. So the question is then asked of Shiva, how can we change if it's impossible to know what and how to change? How does a larva know how to change into a bee or butterfly? Shiva responds that if we calm our mind, then our true nature, Bhairava, will rise effortlessly to the surface. Just like when the surface of the ocean becomes calm, and you suddenly see the fish and coral beneath the surface. Or, Shiva continues, you can focus on releasing the attachments of your ego, the likes and dislikes we cling to with every waking breath from dawn to dusk. This will also lead us to lasting transformation. The more the caterpillar gets out of the way, the easier its natural transformation becomes.And then Shiva concludes that the experience of transformation, the experience of change, is specifically a direct experience, a ‘state of being'. As the text writes it, “That state of Bhairava, [the state of being] which is full of the bliss of non-difference from the entire universe, [that state] is alone Bhairavi, of Shakti of Bhairava.” (JDS translation, emphasis added in brackets). Swami Lakshmanjoo takes extra time in his commentary to emphasize the value of this teaching. “In other words…you can't find out [what is the real state of Bhairava] because the real state of Bhairava is, in fact, the real state of the knower. It can't be found [because] It is the [finder]. The real state of Bhairava is the perceiver, It is not perceived. You can't perceive that state…when there is a desire in you to perceive It. You can perceive It [only] when It comes down in the state of Bhairavī.” We will never be able to change from the outside in, we have to ‘become the change we wish to see in the world' as Gandhi put it. This is the state of being we seek in meditation— a state that goes beyond technique and into direct experience. As JDS comments, “This is Shambhava Yoga: Though the highest state of Bhairava cannot be described, it can be experienced.” (P.16, exposition, note 2)So this New Years let yourself consider this slightly more subtle approach to change and transformation. Instead of getting too wrapped up in a list of external items you wish to change, let yourself use that same time and energy to feel inwardly and participate directly with the spirit of transformation itself. When you breath reaches your heart your halfway there, the other half is beginning to make room for the metamorphosis to unfurl.

It's easy to feel stress around the holidays, to get caught up in all the particulars of getting the right presents for everyone, cooking the best meal, and even spending enough time with loved ones. It's true, we have to do a little extra during the holidays, or a lot extra, but we shouldn't limit the ‘extra' to our ‘to do lists', instead we should remind ourselves that the real ‘extra' of the holidays is the extra awareness it takes to feel the ‘spirit' of the season. Tonight's teachings remind us that we have to quiet the mind if we want to open the heart and feel the spirit of the season, and that the real spirit we seek to experience is the Bliss of our own hearts.For tonight's discussion, we can consider Shiva/Bhairvava to be the spirit of the holiday season.Verse 14: “This state of Bhairava is beyond the limitation of space, time, and formation. It has no space, It has no time, It has no form–It is beyond that, beyond these three…this state is, in fact, indescribable, It can't be described. Akathyā paramārthataḥ, in reality, It can't be told. Antaḥ, internally It happens; It is filled with your own ecstasy, your own ānanda. It is beyond the apprehension of vikalpa (vikalpa unmukta gocara), beyond thought…That state is not the object of vikalpas, It can't be perceived by vikalpas (thoughts). You can't perceive It through the mind…[Bhairavī] has gone above [becoming] the object of thoughts.”We see here that the experience of Bhairva cannot be found with a map, at a particular time, or in a particular form. The spirit of the season can't be described exactly, or even precisely told to you. It is a personal experience of your own heart opening. This holiday spirit is beyond all thought, above all thoughts, and can't be comprehended by the mind.JDS: “Vikalpa is a thought-construct. Vikalpas are various mentalcounters through which people carry on the business of life.Vikalpas may refer to various things of the external world like tree, flower, river, ect. or various images, fancies, ect. of the mind. In vikalpa, mind sets a limit to one particular thing or idea, and differentiates it from the rest; mind constructs a 'particular' by means of thought which it marks of from the rest of the world or from other ideas. Each vikalpa has two aspects; the positive aspect consists of the idea that is selected, and the negative consists of the rest that are set aside or rejected. [Which is why we say that] Vikalpas are concerned with particulars. Secondly, vikalpas are relational i.e. there is always a subject-object relationship in vikalpas. Reality is non-relational, there is no object outside Reality. Therefore vikalpas are unable to grasp Reality. There is, however, one suddha or pure vikalpa, viz., the thought that I am Siva'.”Shiva tells us that it is the nature of the mind to dissect— to differentiate, and that this is essential for daily life, as it allows us to tell one street from the next, one plant from the next, etc. But this method can never truly describe the experience of unity at the heart of the yogic tradition. It can say “unity”, but the mind itself can't experience it. So how do we ever know the experience of Unity, of Shiva, of our true nature, Parvati asks for the benefit of all…Verse 15: One can be aware of that only when one is completely free ofal thought-constructs (vikalponmukta-gocarä). One can have an experience of that bliss in his own inmost self (when one is completely rid of the ego, and is established in pürnahanta i.e. in the plenitude of the divine I-consciousness).That state of Bhairava which is full of the bliss of non-difference from the entire universe (bharitākära) is alone Bhairava or Sakti of Bhairava.Here we see three descriptions of the path to our true nature. First we are told that when we calm our mind, our awareness of our true nature naturally rises up. This is also the first 3 sutras of Patanjali's text, like the surface of the water calming and instantly revealing the life within it. Second we are told that we can rid ourselves of the ego in order to experience it— this is the active processes of yoga that we are familiar with, the practice of surrender, of tapasya, our daily sadhana. Of course these are both sides of the same coin— the practice of surrender is how we calm our mind. And last in this verse we are told of a very unique aspect of this experience— something that Babaji teaches us often. THat the experience we seek is not of the mind, but is a ‘state of being', a ‘state of Bhairava' as its written in the text. The taste of honey can be described to you, but the experience of honey can only be alluded to— the experience of Shiva is different than the description of Shiva, and as practitioners we must remember that it is the experience we seek, not the description. This means that at the heart of our journey is the necessity of going beyond the limitations of the mind. As Patanjali put it so eloquently: Through self-enquiry the practitioner gains insight, but eventually all mental logic must come to an end in bliss. Following that is the comprehension that all is the Self (yoga). And this is the leap we all must take— we open a door and then we walk through it. Ask for help and it is given. Knock on the door of your heart and let it open. As Faith teaches, we repeat Tara's mantra, and then we receive the energy— we don't just keep knocking and knocking. The holidays are a time that we say to each other, ‘magic does indeed exist'. It might not exist in the way the movies portray it, but for a yogi we have the tools to make the most of such a season— and even more importantly, we have a practice that keeps this door open all year long. No matter what tradition we might have grown up in, or how we have merged them in our lives, the path is the same— as can be seen in the old zen story that shows the similarities between followers of Jesus with the teachings of Buddha. The story begins with a university student visiting his mediation teacher, Gasan. THe student asked him: “Have you ever read the Christian Bible?” “No, read it to me,” said Gasan. The student opened the Bible and read from St. Matthew: “And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin, and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these....Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.” Gasan said: “Whoever uttered those words I consider an enlightened man.” The student continued reading: “Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you. For everyone that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened.” Gasan remarked: “That is excellent. Whoever said that is not far from Buddha-hood.”

The Vijnana Bhairava begins with a timeless question as Parvati asks Shiva, ‘which is the path we must tread to our enlightenment? There are so many techniques, please clarify this process for our listeners.'Shiva replies that this is indeed the question of questions, the ultimate question. (I personally wonder why this is the the question of questions— is this the fundamental challenge we all face when trying to meditate? Is this the same question as ‘am I doing this right?' That haunts so many of us?) Shiva first says that what he is about to say should be kept secret. (Why should it be a secret? In my experience, telling this to people who are not ready makes them angry, upset, or depressed. Unless you have put in the time to actually practice, you cannot comprehend anything beyond technique. This is giving a nickel when a nickel is asked for.) Shiva then states “pithily”, as Jai Deva Singh writes, that all techniques whether they divide or unites, (meaning no matter their method), are all bogus, without essence, delusion, even deceptive. They are expansion of Maya, illusion, and are like cities in the sky. This is the shocking answer of Shiva. But why then do we have so many techniques, Parvati asks for the benefit of us all. Technique does serve a purpose, Shiva tells us. Technique focuses a scattered mind. Technique is good for people who can only think in terms of a to-do list, who are always ‘getting things done'. Also, rules and techniques help keep us out of trouble when we are young, when we are not capable of understanding a bigger picture. (My mind goes to the 10 commandments here). And perhaps an even more important level of this discussion is that technique is not the problem, its the misuse of technique— when technique over shadows the goal itself. When technique becomes the goal it leads to imbalance. For example, the Guru Gita says that when our pranayama becomes “long and windy” it “brings disease” instead of heals disease. In this particular verse, the Gita recommends allowing the breath to be stilled by its own accord, naturally, which is to say, to use technique but also let it be natural. In Shiva Sutra 2.2 we see a similar point, Akrita, sincere effort, is defined as intense desire, but is also defined as completely natural and emanating from the center of the heart. Effort and technique are always kept in balance by our ability to let them go and dive into our natural experience. The story of Banzo's sword spoke to this point. In this story we saw that a young man wanted to become a swordsman, but was rebuked for having many of the previously stated qualities— he was a ‘doozer', meaning that he expected that if he wanted to become a swordsman he simply should be able to do so when he chose to become it. He was picky about his growth, meaning that he wanted only to be a swordsman and thought there were no other paths that might support him in that regard. He was also in a hurry, saying that he thought it should be able to determine how long it would take if he worked hard enough. The more he insisted, the longer the teacher, Banzo, said it would take him. Eventually the student relented and said that he would learn in whatever method the teacher chose, and would take as long as the teacher told him. So the student was put on dish duty, and worked in the garden. He greeted guests, set up the temple and closed it. Cleaned the chicken coop, watered the cacao. Helped with online marketing for teacher trainings, and weeded the bamboo. In short, he moved in to the ashram. After three years he started to worry that he would never learn how to wield a sword, and the next day, while doing the dishes, his teacher Banzo jumped out at him with a wooden sword and struck a hard blow. The student was caught off guard for sure. The next day, while taking out the trash, Banzo jumped out from a bush and smacked him again with the wooden sword. And from that day forward the student had to learn how to find his center in any and every activity so that he would not have to taste Banzo's sword. This student showed us that technique is not the problem, its the attachment to technique that is the problem, as Shiva told us. His teacher took all swordsman ‘techniques' away from him, but in reality replaced it with many other techniques that the student would not get lost in— such as dish washing technique, and gardening techniques, etc. The student used these other techniques as they were meant to be used, to clean a dish and grow a garden, and so these techniques served him in many ways, as they serve us in the ashram. This class is one of those many techniques— philosophy can be a technique that serves you or a technique that binds you, as Shiva Sutra 1.2 states, Jnanam Bhanda. In this story, as in the ashram, the techniques of living a simple and positive lifestyle served him— they focused his busy mind, they relinquished his attachment to ‘doership', and they kept him out of trouble long enough to grow. So it seems that Shiva's teachings are two fold, as so much of non-dualistic philosophy is— use technique, but don't become bound by it. Ultimately, we are taught, Bhairava (our true nature), the path to self-realization, is not just a path of technique. That path is something else, something more. Technique is like the sugar coating on a medicine— it helps you take the medicine, but if taken alone is simply sugar, like junk food. We need technique to take the medicine of our growth, but technique itself is not the path. So the question is asked here— how do you experience the difference between the sugar coating and the medicine in your practice? When you recite a mantra, gaze upon a murti, visualize your heart opening, balance your breathing with pranayama, or center your body through asana— how do you tell the difference between the sugar coating and the medicine? And perhaps more importantly, how does knowing this difference serve your practice? Because to know the difference is to become the difference— ie. to know the sugar is to know the medicine. So how does this process, of differentiating technique from its goal, serve your practice?

The Vijnana Bhairava begins with a shock from Shiva: “Whatever form of meditation technique you find in the tantras, whatever mantra or form, are all Bogus!…They are deception, they are delusion, they are cities in the sky.” Whoa, let's take a moment to let that settle! Parvati then responds with a question we would all want to ask— Ho could this be when the Vijnana Bhairava itself, as well as so many of the ancient texts of the yogic tradition, are literally filled with countless meditation techniques? And how can we meditate without a technique? To this Shiva responds that technique is helpful as we begin our practice— it points us in the right direction when we are young, it keep us on the path when we are lost, focuses the mind when we are stressed. They also give us goals to strive towards, and help sweeten our practice in order to digest the challenges of our life. We need technique to begin our meditation, but it can't end there. Because technique alone eventually leads to doership. As the Guru Gita teaches, “long, windy pranayamas are difficult and brings disease…[one should instead] attain that spontaneous natural state, where the powerful breath rises and is stilled immediately, of its own accord.” (Verse 53). This isn't to say that pranayama leads to disease, just the opposite of course, but when we work too strongly with the technique and forget the natural state of being we are seeking, then yes, it does lead to imbalance. We need technique to find our center, but it is just as important to be able to also loosen our grip on technique when we arrive at center. As usual in yoga, it's a dynamism, a dance of effortless effort. As Lineage teacher Bhagavan Nityananda so concisely taught, “The heart is the hub of all holy places, go there and Roam In It.” Ie. Use your practice to find the heart, and then do something different, roam in it. And it is precisely this ‘roaming' in the heart that Shiva's Shocking Answer seeks to teach us, so that we use the 112 ‘techniques' of the Vijnana Bhairava to truly Roam, and not just wander.

Thanks everyone for this lively and insightful discussion to conclude our four year study of the Shiva Sutras. We are so grateful to have such a dedicated sangha to make these discussions real. I'd also like to extend immense gratitude to Sri Shambhavananda for making these teachings accessible to us.

The practices of yoga help us ‘recall' or ‘recognize' our true nature, meaning we are constantly forgetting who we are, and then using our practice to remember who we are. And this is no coincidence, as the power of Maya, illusion, is Shiva's very real ability to cloak or conceal themself. When this occurs we must first realize we have forgotten our true nature, and then use our practice to remember it. And it is precisely this process of perceiving our true nature, forgetting it, and then recalling it that generates our spiritual growth— the text describes it like a spiritual flame that burns from the wood of worldly difference. When the flame goes out it doesn't go back into the wood, just because we forget our true nature doesn't mean we sink back down— our growth was real, but we have to keep growing. For me, this was the message of our final sutra, the teachings that spiritual growth is inherently a patient and persistent process, and that opening up to this perspective of it is critical for our growth. Shiva Sutra 3.45: Bhūyaḥ Syāt-prati-mīlanam: “This yogī simultaneously and repeatedly experiences the revealing state and the concealing state of the objective world.” As anyone knows, when you can't remember something it can often feel like you don't even know how to recall it, which is often how it feels when we are lost in a tension. And that's why we practice everyday, we are actually practicing the ability to remember our true nature, so that we won't forget it so quickly. I found it interesting how scientific studies on improving long term memory actually correspond to how we practice remembering our true nature. For example, it is recommended to practice recalling a memory repeatedly in order to store it in your long term memory— instead of flash cards a yogi uses a Mala and mantra— repeating and recalling their true nature over and over again. Studies also recommended spacing out your recall sessions, just like we space our our morning and evening sits. The science of memory also notes that quizzing one's self is critical to improving long term memory as it is the only way to expose our weak spots— I don't know about you, but I find that my karmic arena is ‘pop quizzing' me on an hourly or less basis! And it's probably no surprise to learn that studies also show that the more you pay attention during the activity you want to remember, the better you will be able to recall it later— for a yogi this means the more you are present when you practice the more you will recall your true nature once your get up from your cushion. I was also excited to learn that studies show that exercising while you are learning actually improves one's ability to recall a memory— for a yogi this could be using one's practice ‘on the run' so to speak during your day, or using one's yoga practice on the mat to remember their true nature. And finally, sleep itself clears the slate and improves our ability to recall a memory, which has always been a reason the yogi lives a simple life— early to bed and early to rise opens opens a yogi's heart skies.

“In all the channels left (ida), right (pingala) and middle (susumna) - there is prana sakti. By the constant practice of bringing one's awareness to this inner state of prana sakti, there abides the awareness of that central Reality under all circumstances, and in all conditions.” Our center is unseen, yet when we rock back and forth in our seat we can find our center of balance without any instruction. It may seem like the center has a central location, but when you lean left and right, you are leaning left and right ‘of center', and from this perspective our center is always with us. In this Sutra we see that our energetic center, the shushumna, is a central force that energizes the 72,000+ veins of our psychic nervous system, and even though it may seem that some of these veins are ‘far from center' they are all a part of our center because they are fueled and emanate from our center. What's more, the Sutra teaches that it is our center that gives life and removes stiffness from our body and actions— ie. when we move or act from our center, our actions are graceful and smooth, this is because the life force is present in these actions. From this Sutra we see that center isn't a place or location, its the space from which we move and connect, or as the sutra says, its the very difference between yogis and ordinary people.

The breath you're taking right now may not be your own. According to the yogic tradition your inhale and exhale are quite literally the dance of Shiva and Shakti manifesting your reality 22,000 times a day. That's right— the natural pulsation of breathing in and breathing out is the literal pulsation of your true nature itself— the first physical expression of divine consciousness in your life, and one that with practice you can learn absorb more deeply. 3.43: Nai-sar-gikaḥ Prāṇa-sam-bandhaḥ “This connection with breathing in and breathing out is their nature”Visit https://konalaniyoga.org/yoga/podcast for a Print-At-Home, Pocket-Journal, of this class! With Quotes, Prompts, and space for reflection!Class Timeline:0:00 “Seeing Stars” Sutra 3.42 Discussion and Reflection22:15 “Shiva is Breathing” Sutra 3.43 Presentation42:10 Meditation on Sutra 3.43

When we look up into the night sky, scientific analysis has shown us that we can see about 2,000 stars with the naked eye. Funny, I don't ever remember seeing 2,000 stars— I just remember seeing this star or that constellation, or maybe saying, “that's a lot of stars”, but not 2,000. How many stars do you see? Well, that depends on how detached you are when looking at them. 3.42: Bhūta-kañcukī tadā vimukto bhūyaḥ pati-samaḥ paraḥ //For the yogi, the five elements are only coverings. At the very moment, [of this realization] they are absolutely liberated, supreme and just like Śiva.”The world around us is just as sparkly as the world above us, but in both cases its hard to see the vastness of it all at once. In fact, to really experience the vastness of our reality, we have to detach from it, or as we teach we have to ‘surrender' it— then we get a glimpse at the spaciousness that surrounds and fills us.Try it now for a moment, instead of just seeing these words, see these words and the screen around the words, the room around the screen, and the you breathing around all of it. If you can feel this dichotomy for even just a moment, you can realize your true nature. As you can see and feel, Detachment doesn't mean we push away, it means we encompass. When we detach from something, we see it clearer, we interact with it more deeply. In this way, this Sutra shows us that when we detach from the body, we actually experience it more fully. For example, if you were on a hike and all you could see was the obstacle in front of you, you would get discouraged. Or at work, if you can't feel the big picture of your efforts they can seem menial. But if you detach and zoom out a bit, you see you are almost home, or almost done with your project. We see this all the time on our yoga mat, where we train to detach and surrender while we work directly with our bodies. If you are attached to feeling a stretch in your hamstrings during a forward fold, for example, studies show you are bound for a tight low back and hamstring tendonitis— but if you detach from that desire for a hamstring stretch, not only do you avoid the injury and postural imbalance, but you re-pattern the neurological and physiological pathways through your entire back line, creating a team of musculature that will serve you every time you bend over to pick up a sock, battery, or toddler. So Detachment brings us closer to the thing we wish to know. Detaching from the body is a way that we can get to know Shiva better— Shiva is the body, and so much more. So as you interact with your body, focus on your body and focus on Shiva. See and hear the information on the screen, and feel your heart and your breath. Don't worry, its not meant to be an overwhelming task, which is why the Sutra concludes by telling us that if we can have this experience for even a blink of an eye, we've got it, forever— so don't think of it as a chore, think of it as an opportunity. You only need to feel it for a moment, and then you've got it.

Einstein's theory of relativity showed us that the sheer mass of a black hole bends space time so dramatically, that if you were to sit and meditate on the edge of one for a year, you would have missed the entire dawn of mankind since the neanderthal, 255,000 years would have passed on earth in that year next to a black hole. That's alot of mass! Well, what would happen if you meditated next to Brahma, the God of Creation in the Hindu tradition, for that same amount of time? According to the yogic tradition, a lot more than mankind would have passed by on earth while you sat there— all of earth would have come and gone, and the universe as we know it, 23 times over! 311 trillion years would have passed while you meditated next to Brahma for a year. So what's the point of all this mind-bending science? To show you how truly massive time is, and that if you want to really discover something eternal you can't approach it horizontally. According to this Sutra, we can escape the inescapable density of time, which is at least 1.2 billion times the size of a black hole by the way, though the present! The present is an escape hatch from time, the most massive mass of them all, the truly infinite. When we are present, we don't just escape time, we discover eternity, we rise up out of our limitations. So consider taking some time now to join us as attempt to jail break time through the key hole of the present.

It's time for a thought experiment— ready? Imagine for a moment that you are in a dream, and that this is that rare occasion in a dream setting where you actually realize it. We all know how rare that is, and how valuable that moment is within a dream. And we all know how slippery that realization is within a dream, how an emotion, or person, or sensation can completely distract you from that awakening at any and every moment. So you have to hold onto it, you have to keep coming back to it— this thought experiment— this is a dream, you are in a dream right now. Usually when we realize we are in a dream we assume one of two things will occur next. Either, A, we accept that we are in a dream and try to fly, or something else that would be fantastic in such a setting. Or, B, we reject the dream and try to wake up, especially if the dream is scary. In this thought experiment, which we are currently doing right at this very moment, we are going to try to entertain a third option— you are in a dream, and you're not going to try to accept or reject it, your simply going to maintain the awareness that you are in a dream and that's all. So wherever you are right now, and however you are experiencing these words, that is what is happening in this current dream you are in. Normally when we look around ourselves we see a world of objects, but since we are in a dream, when you look around yourself you can consider that everything around you is you— its all your dream. This is all a manifestation of yourself, and isn't that how it feels when you look around right now? Don't you feel a subtle connection to everything, but without the ego grip you are accustomed to? That's the witness state, that's surrender, and that where this Sutra is taking us when it teaches “If you, with continuous awareness, imagine this universe is nothing but your own self, your own nature, then by continuing to meditate in this way, a time will come when you will become one with God consciousness.”

There's a little gap, a space inside of all of us that makes us feel incomplete. Take a moment to look away from the screen, and you'll feel it right away. The Sutras describe this gap as “insatiable and insistent”, a space that no taste, face, or place can fill. Swami Rudrananda once said that we tend to despise this space of incompleteness, and that we would throw it out with the trash if we could, but this ‘incompleteness', he teaches, is actually our greatest ally in spiritual growth. Because it is precisely in this space that we determine the direction of our energetic flow— will we flow out to illusion, or will we re-direct that flow within to see a higher reality?

It is the source that sustains us, not the object that entertains us. In this Sutra we are urged to take time to cultivate our Bliss from within, to fill ourselves with Bliss as a means of sustainably sourcing our Bliss so that it will last a lifetime. We do this regularly through gratitude practice and Bodhichitta, but this is also the work behind the Shambhavi Mudra, and the essence of surrender, a means of bringing our energy closer to the source so that our happiness can be sustained from within. Taking a look back at the Tattvic map of manifestation, we see that our work is always to rise towards our source, from the object, to the power of perception, to the perceiver themself, and beyond. In this way, yogis have always sustainably sourced their bliss from within, instead of using up the raw materials of this or that manifestation of happiness. When we can take a step back and see the source of our thoughts, words and actions, we begin to “see what's possible” as Sri Shambhavananda is fond of saying, to see how happiness is possible in any circumstance of our life.

Class Timeline:0:00 Shoutouts to Contributing Writers2:01 Discussion of Previous Sutra, 3.3824:19 Presentation of New Sutra, 3.3942:30 Meditation on Sutra 3.39

Class Time line0:00 Class Discussion of Sutra 3.3722:31 Presentation of Sutra 3.3841:07 Meditation on Sutra 3.38Class Overview:This Sutra teaches that there is a shining sun of Bliss radiating from our hearts constantly called Turya, and many times throughout our day the light of this radiant source of joy breaks through the clouds of samskaras that surround it and illuminates our life with its joy. In these moments of joy, we have the incredible opportunity to retrace that ray of light to its source in the heart in order to turn that joy into Bliss, but more often than not we choose to focus on the external object that appears to have given us this joy instead. Eventually the song fades, the drink ends, the sun sets, and we realize we have traded in a rare opportunity for bliss for a token t-shirt, a snapshot, that merely says “I was here”. We gazed upon the external reflection of bliss till it faded away, rather than gaze in to the source of that bliss in our hearts. That's alright, though, that's where we all start. But through this Sutra we are given another possibility, to trade up a small taste of joy for an immersion in Bliss. The Sutra gives us numerous ways to do so, all that's left is our own effort, and a little bit of preparation.So take a moment, wherever you are, and consider the bigger message here-- joy is inevitable— its gonna strike. Our work, according to the Sutra, isn't to spend our energy trying to produce joy, but rather, trying to receive and sustain it. So what happens when prepare to receive joy? Try this thought experiment and see for yourself-- imagine joy is being delivered to you right now, its on its way to your door, guaranteed or your energy back.... Just sit back and feel this possibility. Be with it, and ask yourself— ‘how do this make me feel?' I bet you feel a tinge of contentment— I know I do. The hidden miracle in this Sutra is that only can we sustain our joy by turning inwards when it flashes through us, but we can actually cultivate this joy by simply preparing to receive it. The realization that joy is inevitable, and the feeling of waiting for it to arrive, is itself a joyous experience. So rest assured, joy is on the way-- the real question is, will you be ready to catch that lightning bolt of Bliss when it arrives at your door?

3.37. karaṇa śaktiḥ svato'nubhavāt //“The power of creation is the experience of every individual.”(Time Lines of Podcast below)0:00 Pocket Sutra Potential!1:36 Discussion of Previous Sutra, 3.3618:17 New Material: Shiva Sutra 3.3739:31 Guided Mediation on Sutra 3.37Raise your hand if you consider yourself creative, if you dream at night, if you see animals in the clouds. Raise your hand if you've ever added a spice that wasn't in the recipe, told a story about your day, or chose a new color for your wall. The Yogic Tradition says that your hand has to be in the air, because whether we realize it or not, Creativity is a Universal quality shared by all sentient beings. All day, everyday, we are constantly creating our own reality through the ways we move, the thoughts we choose, and the state of being in which we reside.Unfortunately though, our participation in this creative process is far too limited, rearranging what's on the surface instead of working deeper within ourselves to truly allow our lives to express themselves. That's why we practice asana and pranayama, to create a reality that moves with, not against, the harmony. That's why we do mantra, to create a reality permeated by Shiva. That's why we expand our hearts as we exhale, to create a state an expansive state of being. And as we become more proficient at these levels of creation, our happiness begins to flow from the inside out, no matter what the situation— and in this way, as the Sutra concludes, we literally become our own ‘wish fulfilling tree'.

Sb 3.36 Part Two Time Line0:00 Intro to Pocket Sutra Concept4:19 Discussion of 3.36 Part 118:40 Presentation of New Material & Discussion41:58 Guided Meditation on the space between the breaths

For full text, be sure to download the Pocket Version of the Sutra on Konalani's Website:

3.34. tadvi-muktastu kevalī // “Separated from pleasure and pain, the yogi is established in real seclusion.” Over the past couple of years, we have all had different doses and experiences of this aspect of reality. When you think of a yogi, you might think of them in a cave, secluded from the world in order to find their true nature. But as we know in our tradition, that kind of external seclusion must eventually come to an end when they test their attainment by returning back to reality. Can the yogi maintain that inner connection amidst a world that draws them always out? What is your perception of seclusion? Seclusion in this sutra doesn't necessarily mean being apart from people, although it could take that form— more importantly it means being apart from your attachments and aversions. What's more, this type of ‘real seclusion' as the Sutra calls it, is not a feeling of isolation but rather a feeling of wholeness, oneness. In fact, the very word ‘oneness' expresses the paradox at the heart of this Sutra, and the experience of meditation in general— Oneness meaning the individual and the whole wrapped up in one singular experience. As Patanjali teaches in his Yoga Sutras, “The seed of attachment is pleasure. The seed of aversion is pain,” meaning that our pleasures and pains are the seeds of illusion that can all too quickly grow into a weed patch that overtakes our reality. According to this Sutra, though, these seeds of pleasure and pain are all an illusion— albeit an incredibly real one, but nonetheless, they are all a part of the grand illusion of duality. It's as if we are trapped in a VR headset, pushing and pulling against a reality that doesn't even exist in our dimension— and when we take off the headset, all of our energy naturally begins to grow the fruit of our practice. “In Kālikākrama, it is said: All those states, like the perception of pleasure and pain and the thoughts associated with them, have arisen by imagination. That differentiation is actually the great illusion of duality. Herein one distinguishes between two opposites, such as the differentiation between pleasure and pain, thinking pleasure is welcome and pain is to be avoided. The yogī who has destroyed this kind of illusion actually attains the real fruit of yoga. (Kālikākrama Stotra)” This is why being busy doesn't necessarily help you feel fulfilled— your life is ‘full',too full in fact, but you may feel empty. The pushing and pulling of a busy-body lifestyle all takes place in the mind, according to the yogic tradition, sucking up all of one's energy and leaving the fruits of our practice dry. As we remove the illusion of our attachments and aversions, our energy naturally begins to funnel itself into our heart, which yields the fruit of our practice, as the Sutra teaches. Yogic Seclusion is nothing to fear, its not a lonely state. Its the thoughts of our mind that create a sense of isolation, according to the Sutra. Because when we follow our thoughts, they lead us down a spiraling path away from the present and our vital life force. Have you ever tried to speak to someone who is lost in a thought? They don't hear you, they aren't even there. As I have been meditating these past weeks, and considering this Sutra's teachings, I have felt this in myself— when my mind drifts into a thought, I lose the vitality of the present. Eventually, these thoughts lead us away from our center, towards an uneasy state as the Sutra goes on to teach. Even Deities, it seems, can fall prey to this illusion. “It is rightly said in Upaniṣads: In the beginning, there was only one Lord, and because he was only one, there being no other, he became afraid.” The Upaniṣads is telling us that this is the reason why those who are alone become afraid. They become frightened because in that state of being alone, this-ness is excluded. This is the state of divtīya brahma. When this-ness is not excluded, then you are only one and there is nothing to fear. That is what is delineated by the word “seclusion” (kevalī). This is the state of seclusion (kevalī bhāva)….In the present sūtra the word tu is not meant to indicate separation, but to indicate supremacy, to indicate that the yogi is above the state of individuality.” As we can see from the Sutra, it's not being alone that leads to fear, it's being without your practice. I know that Swami Lakshmanjoo's concept of “this consciousness” is not something that comes up in our lineage, but based on the previous sutras, and my interpretations of this sutra, ‘this-consciousness' refers to our ability to maintain separation from our pleasures and pains. As we recall from the last sutra, the ability to ‘name your emotion' was likened to the ability to say ‘this is a pot, this is a lamp, this is anger, this is sadness'. The concept of ‘this-consciousness' refers to our ability to apply our practice to our pleasures and pains in order to remain surrendered and separate from them— not pushing or pulling, but surrendering, which as we know is a concept that is beyond the 1's and 0's of the mind to comprehend, it's the middle path, a state of being in the flow. And, as this Sutra teaches, a ‘real state of seclusion' which yields an infinitely inclusive state of being. So reflect for a moment on your experience of ‘seclusion'— how have you experience unity in seclusion? How does this relate to the concept of maintaining ‘this-consciousness', ie. Maintaining a state of objectivity with your internal and external circumstances?

In this heartfelt and inspiration talk, Acharya Abhaya Goldstein takes us on her path to achieving her teacher's teaching to "Do your best, Be happy, and forget about the rest". Simple on the surface, but deeply transformative in practice.

“sukhaduḥkhayorbahirmananam // “The Yogi experiences their joy and their sadness just like an object, with “this-consciousness” separate from their being.” There was an experiment done at the University of California at Los Angeles that asked four groups of people who are afraid of spiders to see how close they could let themselves get to a tarantula. The study postulated that normally the goal is to make people think differently about the spider so that it appears less threatening, so one group was instructed to say to itself, “The spider is in a cage and can't hurt me, so I don't need to be afraid.” Another group was instructed to say something that was irrelevant to the spider, the third group was simply exposed, not instructed to say anything at all, and the last group was told to say how they were feeling out loud to themselves as they approached the spider, such as “I'm scared of that huge, hairy tarantula.” The study concluded that the group that labeled their fear of the spider performed far better than the other groups. They got closer, were less emotionally aroused, and their hands were sweating significantly less, concluding that recognizing and naming of emotions seemed to defang the fearful emotions. I found the practice of this Sutra to be similar to the practice of naming emotions in this experiment, at least in the beginning stages. In this Sutra we see the teaching that instead of identifying directly with our pains and pleasures, such as feeling “I am Joyful” or “I am Sad”, we can learn to recognize our experience as “I am experiencing Joy or sadness”. “Such a yogī experiences the state of pleasure (sukha) and pain (duḥkha) with “this-consciousness,” not “I-consciousness.” For example, he does not experience joy thinking “I am joyous” and sadness thinking “I am sad.” Rather, he“experiences “this is sadness” and “this is joy,” just as an ordinary person experiences external objects in his daily life. He experiences “this-consciousness” not “I-consciousness,” thinking “this is a pot” or “this is a bottle.” So, this yogī experiences his joy and sadness just like an object, separate from his being.” Emotions are powerful because they arise from samskaras. This practice can help us release our attachment or aversion to the pleasure or pain in order that we are not lead around by them in the circle of samsara. As Patanjali says in his Yoga Sutras, “The seed of attachment is pleasure. The seed of aversion is pain…The enlightened practitioner realizes that the endless cycle of avoiding pain and seeking pleasure is a self-propagating result of our past impressions, and so both pain and pleasure must be subjected to the process of introspection and detachment.” (2.7,2.8,2.15). When we are hooked by pain or pleasure, our energy keeps leading us back to those pains and pleasures. Later in that article about the tarantula study, the author noted that research has shown that “When we are afraid or stressed, our brain can only respond based off of previously stored patterns of behavior. But that is rarely the best possible reaction, unless you really are reacting in a life or death situation.” Meaning that it's good to react on previously stored patterns when an emergency strikes, you hear a tree limb breaking and you run away from the sound without interpreting the situation. Reacting to Samskaras only strengthens them. The problem arises, though, when we respond to our daily life in such a patterned way. This is the nature of samsara, when actions are not based on awareness, but are merely based on previous actions, creating a loop of eventual suffering. One simple example is when you hear your favorite song on your playlist, and you really enjoy it, but imagine if that song played a second time, and then a third time, and then a fourth time— it would eventually make you feel aggravated. Or, on the other hand, if there's something you're worried about, and you just keep running the worry through your mind endlessly, it wears you out deeply. So as yogis we can learn to observe our pains and pleasures with detachment and surrender in order to choose them, or not choose them, based on our growth. This is not a matter of stoicism, as this actual practice leads to immense joy. How can that be? I thought we were surrendering our joy? We are surrendering the temporary manifestations of joy as a means of accessing a deeper ‘supreme bliss' which resides within us. As the Sutra reads, the yogi who uses their practice during the experience of pleasure and pain actually experiences Bliss. “although in their daily lives they experience pleasure and pain, these experiences do not affect them at all. There is no apprehension that pain and pleasure will rise in them because the cause of the rise of pain and pleasure is individuality and they have destroyed individuality. They are apart from that and so, in the experience of pleasure and pain, they experience the real state of supreme beatitude, supreme bliss (ānanda), which is actually more than bliss. (Pratyabhijñā)” Just as Babaji often recalls of his teacher Swami Rudrananda, when he bit into an ice cream cone, he used that experience to open his heart, and would enjoy his ice cream more than anyone. He literally tasted Bliss in that mildly joyful experience. Babaji also recently taught the practice froth Vijnana Bhairava which tells us ‘when encountering a long lost friend, and your heart bursts open, breathe into the source of that joy', meaning, enjoy the embrace of a friend, but don't stop there, keep going to its source in your heart. It's good to do this in the moment of joy, because, as Babaji said later, that joy might eventually fade when you realize why the two of you parted ways so long ago. I have found that the practice of naming emotions is a great way to get this practice started, but you can't end there. By all means, name your emotion, that takes surrender and awareness in itself. I have been doing it and it helps you detach and feel the present. But as a yogi, you can breathe into that space you have created and keep that door open to the heart without much more interaction with your mind. Name the emotion again, see it objectively, and then breathe into that space. Use all of your tools to stay present, and to keep the wheels of your practice turning.