It is no secret that, when we hear or read stories about people who’ve left the world (and the things which tied them to it) behind, we often recall familiar images. Some of these may be of mild-voiced gurus sitting in the lotus position under a yellow Indian sunset.
Many assume that even a bit of mastery of this “state training” would then cause all practitioners to see the world politic through one common lens, one that would be the same for all beings striving to train and focus their minds. But this is where we can see what yoga is not.
By examining the Gita alongside the Enlightenment-era philosophy of Immanuel Kant, I argue that we can illuminate both texts’ relationship to ethics, aesthetics, and violence.
When you say, “I love you unconditionally,” even the syntax betrays you. You are using love here as an active verb, one with a direct object, and establishing yourself as the agent in the exchange
To study the Bhagavad Gita and to understand it culturally and historically, one must begin with the larger context from which we get the Gita – the Hindu epic, the Mahabharata.
Whether you wish to argue the validity of a text that for hundreds of years fell out of practice in India or to full-heartedly embrace its philosophy, it is hard to argue that the eight-limbed path of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras does not bring both high-value and practical purpose to one’s sadhana.
Material reality is an illusion; our attachment to form and possessions is the obstacle to happiness, and in order to know the Truth we must participate fully with no expectations or attachments to the all too human process that got us into this situation of suffering (dukha) to begin with.
We must start with the primary premise of Yoga philosophy and related schools of thought: True Reality is free from all qualities, atemporal, all-pervading, and impassive.