Four Secrets to Deep Meditation
Sage Patanjali revealed four interrelated practices to reach the depths of meditation.
Sage Maharishi Patanjali wrote The Yoga Sutras sometime in the first few centuries before Jesus of Nazareth lived, probably near the century when Gautama Buddha was teaching. Reaching back into the written and oral traditions of Vedanta, Patanjali distilled the truths of Yogic practice. He presented them in 196 aphorisms that have been the foundation of Yoga for more than two Millennia.
By Yoga, Patanjali meant those Vedic tools that can calm the incessant fluctuations of a busy mind. When the mind dominates a person, thought and action become their identity. Allowing the mind to come to stillness, inner silence, we become increasingly clear that who we really are is the being, the pure consciousness, from which thought and action arise.
For Patanjali the fullness of Yoga is Self realization. One is aware that as subject they are the pure consciousness within. At the same time one is aware that what had seemed like the outer world, the objects and events of one’s observation, are also that Self-same consciousness. Yoga is the fulfillment of the ancient Vedic saying, “I am that, thou art that, all this is that!” In Sanskrit “that” is Tat—Being itself. Yoga is ultimately the truth of Unity consciousness.
The Yoga Sutras is a unique piece of spiritual writing because it puts its entire emphasis on spiritual practice, with the goal of Self realization. Unlike most religious texts it is not a matter of “believing in” what Patanjali has to say. There is no dogma and no creed required to grow into that full human potential that is Yoga. By following the practices with sincere intention and requisite effort, the seeker will discover the deeper gifts of Yoga .
Pantanjali indicates that the basis of this transformation toward higher consciousness is effective meditation. The path he describes has eight parts, in Sanskrit termed Ashtanga Yoga (meaning simply, eight limbs). The latter four of these eight limbs are the keys to deep Yogic meditation—the core secrets, if you will. I refer to them as secrets because those not familiar with The Yoga Sutras may not have heard of them. Those who have heard of them may employ one or more of them as separate practices. The greatest secret for me is that these four seemingly separate mental techniques are actually part of the single practice of deep meditation. Any meditation that is effective, that is deep, will have these four movements as part of its practice—whether or not the meditator is aware of each step.
Pratyahara
Dharana
Dhyana
Turiya
Pratyahara: A Shift from Out There to In Here
Step one is an important one, sometimes overlooked as meditators leap into their practice. In the course of our day, the attention is absorbed by all the phenomena external to us. The hearing may go to a neighbor’s lawnmower. The eyes may be drawn by innumerable people and objects in our environment. The sense of smell may be captivated by a sweet pea blossom, or repelled by smoke from a nearby forest fire. This is the work of the senses, all day, over and over again, to reach out to bring back the data of outer experience. It’s a good thing, except that it can go on incessantly if we don’t put a stop to it from time to time. We may not even be aware that our attention is constantly focused out there. Eckhart Tolle says that when we habitually let our attention be drawn outward this way, we tend to lose ourselves in the world, and we lose track of the Now. We lose track of the Self, who we most truly and deeply are.
So the first limb of deep meditation is to draw those senses inward. Instead of sensing all that is in your surroundings, become aware of the world that is within you. The place of thoughts, feelings, images, body sensations, silence, stillness. Don’t try to notice anything particular—not yet. Just achieve the shift from outer to inner. From the world out there, to the world in here. It’s a big step, but when you get used to it, it’s a very natural one.
If we were to try to make this happen sense by sense, it would be very difficult and extended process. It’s easier to do it all at once. A huge portion of our attention follows the visual sense, so a large shift to the inner experience can be made simply by closing the eyes. Another great portion of sensation has to do with the body when it is not in comfort, so find a way of sitting comfortably. Lying down can promote sleep, which may be deep, but it doesn’t have the alert awareness of meditation. So sitting comfortably means sitting up vertically but relaxed, with the head not reclining against a pillow or recliner chair.
You may spontaneously notice the breath rise and fall. You may notice thoughts or feelings. You may even still hear some of those sounds outside, but most of your awareness has begun the inward journey to deep meditation. For many people this practice of Pratyahara is the whole of their meditation experience. In a sense it is a very good meditation, though it may not get to the depth of silence and stillness you are yearning for.
Dharana: Paying Attention
In the context of Pratyahara, sitting comfortably with the awareness directed inward for the most part, the second step begins the process of deepening the meditation toward the silence and stillness within, toward the source of thoughts, images, and feelings. This is called Dharana in Sanskrit. It is unfortunately referred to as “concentration” by some translators, but that doesn’t get to the beauty of Dharana. Concentration gives the connotation of a furrowed brow, of trying hard, of actively focusing the mind. Concentration is usually hard work. Dharana is easy. In fact it must be easy for it to bring you to deeper experiences of awareness in your meditation.
I like the word “pay attention.” A candle is burning on your desk. Do you notice it? Pay attention to the candle. Do you see the flame? Do you see the wick? Do you smell the scent of wax or fragrance? Dharana is paying attention very lightly. Noticing gently, but not forcing.
You can pay attention in this way to any inner sensation, but particularly effective is the use of an inner sound—a Mantra, in Sanskrit. I say “sound” not “word” because a word implies a meaning and the mind will get busy telling stories about that word and its meaning. Once you are thinking about the meaning of a word, that’s not in the direction of meditation. So a sound without meaning, a Mantra, becomes a vehicle or instrument for the inward journey toward silence and stillness within.
Begin by repeating the Mantra gently, without concentrating. It’s like listening lightly to a sound, more than saying a sound. It’s definitely not concentrating on the sound. Soon you may simply notice the Mantra in that inner space, spontaneously and effortlessly, as you would notice the spontaneous arising of any other thought.
Dhyana: Inward Flow
At this point the meditation, the flow of the attention to quieter levels, goes almost by itself. Without really trying, the Mantra becomes quieter, the body becomes more relaxed, and the mind calms down. Dhyana is sometimes described as like the flow of honey from a spoon onto a hot biscuit. It’s as if the flowing honey has a momentum of its own, as if it would rather keep flowing than stop. At this point the meditation is easy, and must be easy to be effective. It’s as if the field of silence and stillness within, the source from which thoughts arise, the being who at essence we are, becomes ever more attractive, ever more charming the deeper we go.
It is in this flow of Dhyana that the body comes to the experience of deeper and deeper rest. And the stresses of the day and of the lifetime begin to let go.
Every time stress is released during your meditation, thoughts will arise. When a thought is noticed don’t fight it, don’t try to make it go away. Just notice it. And gently begin the Dharana again by lightly returning to the Mantra, and the flow of Dhyana will start again. Thoughts are an essential part of meditative practice, indicating that the deep rest is healing old wounds.
In toward the silence, out with a thought, in toward the silence, out with a thought. So goes the flow of the meditation.
Turiya: No Mantra, No Thought, Just Awake
So meditation is an in, followed by an out, followed by an in… Deeper and deeper. And from time to time there is only the in. There is no Mantra. There are no thoughts, feelings or images. Yet not asleep. Body resting, attention alert. Some authors have called this “restful alertness,” and others have called it the “relaxation response.” In Sanskrit the general term for the deepest meditation experience is Samadhi, and this is the word that Patanjali uses.
Another useful term is Turiya, simply refering to a state of consciousness that is different from usual waking, dreaming and sleeping. The word Turiya suggest the fourth state of “meditative consciousness.” When the meditator is simply sitting without thought of any sort, yet fully awake, this is that Turiya.
Turiya or Samadhi is a deeply relaxed state for body and mind, and quickly it initiates stress release. That is to say, an experience of this thoughtless pure consciousness is quickly followed by thoughts as the stress release takes place. Commonly the meditator slips into the silence of pure consciousness, absent inner activity, and then has the thought, “Wow, this must be that Turiya!” Of course, with that thought, it isn’t the Turiya any more.
What next? Gently back to the Mantra.
Invitation
The aphorisms of Patanjali were written down, but they are part of a much more ancient oral tradition. In my experience meditation can be understood by reading words, but ultimately the practice of meditation is best taught as an oral-tradition experience. If you’d like help getting to a deep meditation, please be in touch. My contact information is on the “Offerings” page of enastros.com.