Yoga & the Religious Attitude.

Via yoga 2.0 lab
on Mar 23, 2011
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by Matthew Remski with Scott Petrie

Modern yoga exists at the juncture of faith and faithlessness, on the cusp between belief and inquiry. It begs the question in a thousand ways: can faithful people have substantive conversations with those for whom faith is an open question?

A month ago, we published our introductory piece to our ongoing series in the 2.0 reading of Patanjali. Since then, 55 comments have been appended to that post. Scott and I have been puzzling over one of them ever since.

The commentator “Mahatma” had two points. One was technical. Mahatma pointed out that modern western yogis should be aware that the ascendency of the Patanjalian sutras in our culture is not representative of the broader tradition, and that the majority of the Hatha Yoga lineage that follows Patanjali evokes a more tantric ethics of relationship, involvement, and embodied action. We agreed in our reply, and added the additional observation that the ashta-anga of the sutras meshed very nicely with the Neo-Platonic reading agendas of early 19th-century translators. In other words, we agreed that we have adopted Patanjali as our modern yoga bible because it resonates nicely with our vestigial Judaeo-Christianity. It divides spirit from matter, disciplines the unruly body of its desires and assymetries, surrenders to authority – whether external (the perfection of a divine agent) or internal (the perfection of your unseen soul), and tells a general story of redemption from a natural state of sin. Its aesthetic is quietist: classical yogis and Christian saints radiate nimbuses of mildness. This was all very clear, and gratifying for us to have the opportunity to sketch out in brief as we prepare more complete reflections on this intersection for a later post.

all you need

But Mahatma’s second point was much different. S/he began by casting an aspersion on our training and our relationships to teachers, and suggested that the ethical dilemmas that we raised to begin our interrogation of Patanjali’s relevance to our postmodern age were the product of our unfortunate disconnection from “authentic” yogic learning. Now, we don’t think we know the commentator personally – s/he posted under a pseudonym – so we can’t really say how s/he came to any conclusion about our education. According to them, our very questions seemed to place us beyond the pale of valid inquiry. Without the right teacher, Mahatma seemed to be saying, we don’t even know what questions to ask. Besides, a good teacher would go farther than answering questions,– a good teacher could actually unwire the mind that asks questions.

Further, our apparent outsidership was presumed by Mahatma (albeit tacitly) to be psychologically stressful to us. S/he kindly reassured us that our answers were indeed available, but only accessible to us through a corrected relationship to authority. Other commentators went further in their psychoanalysis of our questioning stance, worrying aloud about the amount of internal pain that our professed uncertainty must be causing.

We appreciated the psychological concern, but found it a bit unnecessary and overreaching, because we both honestly love our questions and their elliptical jet streams. We are bhaktis of inquiry. And we don’t even really have any problems with authority, either. We either ignore authority, resist it, or accept it provisionally. For us, authority is plural, and the more the merrier. We compare amongst them, short-circuit their hierarchies of knowledge through analysis and discussion, and disperse their power amongst everyone who comes to the party.

Over many pots of Ethiopian coffee since that post, we’ve come up with a few thoughts about these comments, and we’d love to open a new level of discussion: about how yoga inquiry is produced and received, and what this says about what knowledge is, who owns it, what it is used for, and, most importantly, what it shows us about where religion and philosophy tangle.

Modern yoga exists, it seems, at the juncture of faith and faithlessness, on the cusp between belief and inquiry. It begs the question in a thousand ways: can faithful people have substantive conversations with people like us, for whom faith is an open question?


Scott leaned back in his chair and opened with a bright volley. “In what way is the statement: ‘You will understand Patanjali when you meet an authentic teacher’ different from the statement: ‘You will understand the Bible when you accept Jesus as your personal saviour?’” (You can substitute any religious text or figure for “Jesus”.)

I was puzzled – I said: “Well, presumably an ‘authentic teacher’ would sit before you in the flesh, would know you and your learning needs, would be able to improvise and time the most relevant examples and so on. ‘Accepting Jesus’ doesn’t involve quite the same kind of dialogue.”

“True,” said Scott. “But the end result is the same from the perspective of the learning process. Both statements attempt to generate a feeling of certainty that forecloses on all future questions by deferring to an external power. I don’t think Mahatma is simply empathizing with our lack of mentorship,” he continued. “I think he’s saying that we’re non-believers, and we won’t get anywhere or know anything verifiable or useful until we develop a faith relationship to authority. He’s saying: ‘Everything will be answered when you finally put your faith in a teacher who answers everything for you.’”

Scott’s point was simple. Whether you are accepting Jesus as your personal saviour or accepting an “authentic” teacher’s interpretation of Patanjali (or anything else in the yoga tradition as whole and complete) you are doing the same thing. You are giving your authority away. This may not be a bad strategy in some cases, but there’s a catch. You can only really do this with pleasure and comfort if you also enjoy the psychological support of a faithful attitude. In other words, accepting first a teacher’s authenticity, and then accepting their authority over whatever they choose to interpret, is an act of faith, plain and simple. Acts of faith are not designed to advance knowledge. They are designed to soothe the anxious mind. They are religious, in the sense that they manufacture certainty, as opposed to philosophical modes, which produce discourse.

Imagine someone saying: “When I come to have faith in Jesus, I will see that the questions I ask without faith are meaningless.” Well of course! This is so obvious that it can’t be meaningful. But we have no desire to come to have faith in Jesus! So can we get on with the discussion, please? Or is faith in Jesus my entrance fee to your church, which is the only place we can legally talk about him?

When someone writes to encourage us to find and surrender to the authority of an authentic teacher, they are appealing for the development of our faith. They are saying: “If you take a religious stance towards these issues, your questions will cease.” The assumption also seems to be: we’d be happier without our autonomy, and so would everyone else. Sometimes, there also seems to be some underlying resentment: “I gave away my autonomy — why do you get to keep yours?”

When this agenda is uncovered, it suddenly makes sense why no commentator who takes this tack would be excited to actually engage the content of the original article. (If you read through the criticisms, you’ll see that almost none are substantive. Rather, most focus on issues of tone or presumed attitude. Ramesh provides the notable exception.) Such critics don’t address the questions we raise, because the questions are irrelevant. Their target is the questioning and faithless mind itself. If they did actually engage on the level of content, they would have to do so by forfeiting their language of faith.  They would have to climb down out of the private certainty they hold in relative solitude, into the uncertainty that everyone shares. This is very hard for a certain kind of person to do. We think that that person is likely harbouring a religious attitude towards life and knowledge.

Really – what would be the point of telling a writer “You don’t know enough because your training is incomplete”, and then failing to concretely engage with the alleged shortcomings in the writing? Does this serve knowledge, or community? Or is simply about power? Does Mahatma not care about the actual content, or worse – about how Scott and I may be endangering ourselves with falsehoods? Is it more important for him or her to simply tell us that we are outsiders, and would be better off silent until we join the Light Team?

Mahatma implied that we were wrong, and then seemed to have nothing to offer. It might be that s/he just didn’t have time that morning. But still: s/he could have taught us something. It feels like the message of exclusivity was a higher priority.


nice bindings!Postmodern yoga culture has a very complex relationship with religion. On one hand, it has Universalist strands, presented most clearly by Vivekananda and his lineage, which suggests that yoga provides an ecumenical forum for the blending of all religions. This looks good on paper, but it seems rare for it to reach out beyond the level of abstraction and multicultural sentiment.

On the other hand, many modern yogis are insistent that yoga is not a religion. This claim is useful in the support of at least three different agendas: the yogi’s wish to differentiate herself from her own (presumably bankrupt) religious heritage; the yogi’s wish to simplify the marketing of her brand (whether she’s trying to open a heartland studio or a corporate call-in business); and finally, the yogi’s wish to elevate the process of inquiry over the product of certainty. This last agenda is probably the most fruitful and forward-looking.

Then (if we can add a third hand), on the third hand there is outright religiosity in a large portion of modern yoga culture. The same studio that hosts an Iyengar intensive on femoral grounding on Saturday afternoon can easily host a devotional kirtan on Saturday night, in which the pleasure of psychological surrender is the desired experience. Murtis of Ganesh or Siva sit on the reception desk, blessing the key-chain pass-swiper and raw vegan snacks. More than this, many practitioners affect a religious and/or faithful attitude.

This is to be expected. Even the most jaded Judaeo-Christian culture will likely retain its religious sentiments as long as they serve the psychological need for comfort and certainty. We will surely nurture our religious heritage for as long as it hints at that expansive state we know can’t be limited by dogma. The imagery and prayers of other religious traditions may even be particularly useful to us, because they have not accumulated their own dogmas like so much dust. We are like children amongst the Hindu pictures: enthralled on the levels of colour, form, and story. We are inspired by the devattas, perhaps because they haven’t yet begun to tell us what we should do, or how we should exclude those who don’t share our fascination, or how we should discipline those who develop incorrect philosophies.


If there are religious aspects to modern yoga, does yoga 2.0 view them from inside or outside of faith? Where do we stand? Do we need to choose?

The Outsider/Insider conundrum is famous in Religious Studies, where Scott and I both did hard academic time. The question revolves around who has the right and ability to study and describe a set of dogmas – the one who holds them, or the one who doesn’t?

The Outsider to a religion can’t understand it, says the Insider, because she lacks the ecstasy of faith. The Insider to a religion can’t understand it, says the Outsider, because he lacks rational perspective. The Insider defends his private feelings against intrusive analysis. In so doing, he pushes the Outsider further to the periphery. The Outsider’s language must become more penetrative. As Outsider intelligence becomes more penetrative, Insider defensiveness recommits, and recommits.

If Scott and I don’t sit with an authentic teacher that matches Mahatma’s unstated (and probably indefinable) standards, are we outside the tradition? We don’t feel that way – certainly not after 20 combined years of teaching and community organization across many strata of yoga culture: studios, retreats, teacher training programmes, and in the satellite disciplines of Ayurveda and East Indian Astrology.

But at the same time, we don’t really feel like we’re “inside” of anything, either. We definitely feel the same moments of expansiveness, pleasure, wonderment and empathy that lie at the heart of religious sentiment. But for us, our samadhis do not suggest or define or prove a worldview to which we must pledge allegiance, or defend against something that will attack it. They are simply the gifts of life itself, thankfully made more accessible and magnified through yogic technique. When they occur, authority is nowhere to be seen. Nobody asks us to recite a creed on the threshold of the sublime. No priest has led us to joy. No article of faith has brought me to orgasm, or sufficiently explained a single petal on a single lily of the field.

Religious yoga reminds us of Groucho Marx: “I wouldn’t join any club that would need me as a member!”


At a certain point in the inside/outside discussion, a strange dialectic takes hold. The Insider begins to prove her insidership by measuring it against the Outsider’s misunderstanding. The Outsider begins to prove her outsidership by measuring it against the Insider’s irrationality. The sides polarize, not because the substantive differences are increasing or harming anyone, but because the perceptions of those differences are closing down the language and the willingness to connect. Emotions run high: the Insider needs to protect the soul he has claimed for himself, and the Outsider seeks for soulfulness in the cracks between claims.


Our first yoga studio was in rural Wisconsin, surrounded by various Christian church compounds. One Lutheran evangelical minister stood in his pulpit one Sunday and expressly forbade his congregants from coming to our studio. Sometimes our building was vandalized. We never found out if that was discriminatory, but we often felt uneasy and untrusted within the larger community, even though the folks that came to our classes seemed edified by what we were able to offer.

My partner also taught theatre classes in the space. Over time we made the acquaintance of the only other theatre-teacher-woman in town, who sent her children to my partner’s classes, played Sonia to my Astrov in a community production of Uncle Vanya that we staged, and began to chat with us about collaborating further. I’ll call her Marian. We got along well. It all had that upbeat Midwestern feeling I still miss.

But one day, somebody at Marian’s church gave her a good talking-to about her association with us. Shortly after, while helping my partner with costumes for a kid’s production of Peter Pan, she announced her concern for our souls. Our practice of yoga, according to her, would prevent us from forming an adequate relationship with Jesus, and it fell to her to let us know. She looked at us gravely, her normally-cheerful colour now ashen.

But she wasn’t upset enough, in my view. When I pressed her about the implications of her concern, she confirmed that it ran deeply: she claimed to believe that my soul would be damned because of my practices and faithlessness. I asked her what damnation meant to her. She replied that it meant eternal separation from God: eternal loneliness, eternal pain.

“That’s bullshit,” I said. She was taken aback. “If you were really concerned that my eternal soul was in this moment being primed for endless torment because of choices I could change right now, you’d be on your knees right here, begging me to convert. If you really were convinced that I was lost, you’d be out of your mind with horror and empathy. And I know you have a big heart – I’ve seen you with your children. So I think this faith of yours is shite. You don’t really believe that stuff. You just want to feel certain about something in your life. And you’re using your projection of my uncertainty to prove that you can feel certain about something. I don’t think it’s going to work out for you in the long run.”

We lost touch with Marian. Everything we shared and everything we had in common was washed away in a pathetic tide of religious misanthropy. It was such a waste.


faith and despair in chekhov

In the closing speech of Uncle Vanya, Sonia masters the poetry of religious despair. I was off-stage: my Astrov having exited in drunken springtime existentialism.

Marian stood centre stage in that tiny regional theatre, and wept openly as she delivered her lines.

Chekhov has built it sublimely: Vanya is tortured by loneliness and class misfortune, driven to servitude at the hand of his pompous brother-in-law, in late middle age, a bachelor, longing for a love he knows will never come. He weeps with angst, and Sonia rebuts with tears of faith.:

SONIA. What can we do? We must live our lives. [A pause] Yes, we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through the long procession of days before us, and through the long evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials that fate imposes on us; we shall work for others without rest, both now and when we are old; and when our last hour comes we shall meet it humbly, and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered and wept, that our life was bitter, and God will have pity on us. Ah, then dear, dear Uncle, we shall see that bright and beautiful life; we shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrow here; a tender smile–and–we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, fervent, passionate faith…. We shall rest…. We shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining like a jewel. We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away in the great compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and tender and sweet as a caress. I have faith; I have faith. [She wipes away her tears] My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying! [Weeping] You have never known what happiness was, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest.

I watched from the wings night after night, knowing Marian’s tears were real. She really did have faith, and it gave her equal parts of poetry, despair, and intolerance for the incompatible feelings of others.

I think that what ultimately separated us from Marian was that we simply couldn’t share her (and Sonia’s) religious morbidity and psychological disempowerment.


While our Wisconsin experience may be a crude example of a religion-stoked impasse, the same thing can definitely happen in yoga as well. Mahatma’s words must only be nudged a little bit further to the right before they turn into a faith-based standoff in which s/he says: “Whatever we do share is outweighed by our differences in belief. I have access to an authority that you do not, and it gives me enough power to say you are mistaken.”

What a way to end a conversation that’s just getting started!


But why pull punches? We actually know that religious exclusivity that derives its power from hierarchy, from defining, reifying and claiming ownership over indescribable experiences abounds in yoga culture. We can feel it: yoga often separates as much as it joins, and it does so through the religious posture of assumed certainty. Assumed certainty provides comfort that decays.

You can feel it whenever you get close to a group who allows you to stay by trying to force your internal reality to wear a particular public mask. You can feel it whenever you are told how to feel or think about authority. You can feel it whenever someone offers you consolation with a vague but insistent promise of certainty in your life – if only you follow their instructions perfectly. You can feel it when you keep going to satsang long after your learning curve has plateaued, and you blame yourself for your declining enthusiasm. You can feel it when it seems like you’re depending on someone for constant propping of your self-worth. You can feel it when you feel relieved to be forgiven by someone you never wronged. You can feel it when you begin doing things to appease authority because appeasement will make you feel welcome, included, and part of the tribe again.

It feels so good to be the prodigal son. It feels so good to be the good boy or girl once again. But this is not empowering for those who are actually growing older, and actually wish to step into the authenticity that they alone can define. It’s no surprise: religion is not about sharing power. Yoga is.

photo by julie daniluk

Matthew Remski is an authoryoga and ayurvedic therapist and educator, and co-founder of Yoga Community Toronto. With Scott Petrie (who provided essential wing-man services for this piece) he is co-creator of yoga 2.0, a project in writing (one book done, eight more in the sushumna-chute) and the embodiment of all things post-dogmatic.

yoga 2.0: shamanic echoesis now available for kindle and other e-readers.


About yoga 2.0 lab

Matthew Remski is an Ayurvedic practitioner and Yoga Teacher Trainer in Toronto. His latest book, Threads of Yoga, is gathering international acclaim. He's teaching this online course starting 1/7/14. It's currently full, but there is a reduced-tuition option for auditing. The 12 weekly lessons will be available online for six months following the course. Participants receive a 130-page manual of notes.


56 Responses to “Yoga & the Religious Attitude.”

  1. AMO says:

    I'm freakin' exhausted and I didn't even finish this. I got too tired half way through to keep reading. This is the sentence that turned me off:

    ‘Everything will be answered when you finally put your faith in a teacher who answers everything for you.’

    If you are correct in assuming that was the commenters point then nothing else he has to say has any meaning to me. Why would I want only one person to learn from? Why would I want a relationship that assumes information flows only in one direction?

    The idea of "guru" is a major turn off to me. I won't go to yoga studios where teachers talk about gurus or act like gurus and I won't be treated like one by my students. I love hatha yoga, and I love the idea that the meditation present in the breath and the movement can lead me deeper inside myself, can lead me to a more peaceful relationship with the world, can lead me to a more open heart.

    I don't believe in any of the gods humans have ever believed in through time. I think it's time we acknowledged that the reason all the god stories are the same, is that we are all the same inside. The divine is within you, no guru required…

  2. Michael Texeira says:

    Because I would likely lose my commentary by the time I read the whole thing, I will comment in bits and bobs. First, regarding the teacher. I am as about as unconformist and resistant to authority as one can be, but I have sat once in the presence of a teacher. Knowledge was imparted without words, doors opened without knowing that the doors had been there, and the pertinent questions were woven from the answers arisen spontaneously. Not saying that this could not be done without a teacher, but certainly, someone who is capable of holding the space that you are seeking is a major boon on any path. He did not require I submit, but merely stated that if I did, I could achieve the state he assisted me in experiencing, much quicker and with less pain. He was probably right, but I chose to enter Maya once again. The only relevance that faith had was in allowing me to let go of the questioning mind.

    The thing about the questioning mind is, it inherently starts from the assumption that it doesn't already know. For if it already knew, why would it ask questions? And from my personal experience, when in the state beyond questions, all the answers to the questions I had seem completely obvious. I don't stay there, because, for the time being, I enjoy the drama created by pretending that I don't already know everything, and that I'm not already connected at the core to the core of all being. But lets be serious…it's a pretense.

    Certainly, a little analysis makes clear that autonomy is antithetical to Yoga. Yoga is union, merging oneness. Autonomy is separation and identity. Certainly, neither is better or worse than the other. Really, it all becomes a question of where your attention is. Is your awareness on your identity, that which is definite, discernable, and separate? Or is it on your transcendental being, that aspect of you which is amorphous, immaterial, and unknowable except through direct experience? This is where the discussion of the various qualities of Samadhi can come in. What are you seeking? Nirvakalpa or Samprajnata samadhi?

    On the issue of a Guru, you can find one externally or be your own. The only purpose of a Guru is to guide. If you are going into the depths of the Amazon, would you not hire a guide? Since, according to Yogic philosophy, the innermost depths of each of us is the same energetic core, the same source energy, many choose to follow someone who has done the work within themself, and hence knows the way. Is faith required? Not really. No more faith than you put constantly in the world of form. Kirkegaard discussed faith quite comprehensively. When you sit down without looking behind you, do you not exercise faith that the chair will still be there when you expect contact? Have you ever thought you were coming to the bottom step in a series of stairs, only to find the shocking revelation that one more step remained? The faith you had in that firm foundation, in this case, created the condition whereby you were disillusioned and perhaps frightened. On the other hand, life is impossible without a certain amount of faith. One would exhaust themselves in worry. For most, it is faith in the scientific method, or the socratic method, or in sensory stimulus. As is mentioned, the faith itself is not important. It merely provides a buffer for us to interact with a world of ungraspable uncertainty. Each of us use it to some extent.

    Having spent some time with The Twelve Tribes, I have seen some of the uglier sides of faith, as it creates myopia, confirmation biases, and insular groups which are unable to access new information. It's a real bummer. But, if you happen to meet someone, where, just sitting quietly in their presence, brings out aspects of awareness you had never experienced before, not in your deepest meditations, then perhaps you will understand the faith of guru and disciple. I left my guru, because it was not time for me yet, but it is fine. Since all of material reality is merely a manifestation of my divine will, when I am ready, I will create another body with that same timeless and powerful spirit, who I may sit with and enjoy time with. Or maybe this time, I'll do it with my wife, or by myself. I haven't decided yet.

    Be mindful of resistance. Be mindful of when you fight against something because it reflects and elicits the darkness within. That is all I would ask of you. Open-mindedness even in the face of the closed minded, for everyone has some truth to offer.

  3. ARCreated says:

    I want to hang out with you guys…I think that's about the best compliment I can give….LONG LIVE THE QUESTIONS!!! I will have many many guru's I will be my own guru…and I may never know "Rest" becuase I have found peaceful faith…but I'm OK with that too… I "ran" from religion because of dogma and this idea that anyone freakin' knows anything and I rest in Yoga because it (at least for me) is a place of exploration and discovery not dogma…if others want/need that authority they can have it…but as with other religions keep your dogma off my psyche :p

  4. Padma Kadag says:

    Yea yea yea….The Guru can be more than one individual. No wonder 99% of self proclaimed "Yogis" are resistent to a Guru is because they have no teachers who would qualify being a Guru. The tradition of American Yoga is a self reliant "yogi" that has no investment in a tradition. They want to ascribe to the false Ghandian ideal that all paths have the same goal or finality so they shop for what "FEELS" good. An authentic Guru would not accept that style of student. Furthermore maybe we should discuss what a Guru does…that would be laborious.

  5. Brilliant essay. Loved every minute of it.

    I hope we get a response from "s/he".

    Posting to Elephant Yoga on Facebook and Twitter.

    Bob W.
    Yoga Editor

  6. Just posted to "Featured Today" on the new Elephant Yoga homepage.

  7. Michael Texeira says:

    We all have gurus still. Guru is merely the energy of the teacher. So, everytime you ask a question and really listen, from a space of not knowing, and not thinking that you know, you give the guru access to you. I agree that one person can make the path quicker and easier, if the person has truly walked your path, but that is not what every soul is looking for. Some just want experience, and for some Yoga is merely a way to stay balanced enough to walk the materialist path, and that's fine too.

  8. There is a third alternative I'm not sure you're taking into account here. You're saying it's a choice between "surrendering to certainty" or "don't surrender and continue to question".

    There is another route–"surrendering to uncertainty".

    If one defines God or No-God (either works fine) as the "infinitely wondrous unfathomable life force of the universe", then that certainly shortens the discussion about what God is or isn't, but it opens up endless discussion about what the implications of all this infinite wonder are for our lives, which, it seems to me, is what most of yoga 2.0 is really about.

    The religious people and the Yoga teachers I admire have this in common–Heschel, Merton, Cope, Easwaran, etc.

    They surrender, but to an infinitely wondrous unfathomable uncertainty, not certainty.

    Bob W.
    Yoga Editor

  9. matthew says:

    Thanks for the feedback AMO — it is a long piece, so thank you for your patience as well… The guru principle definitely calls on faith, this is sure. The implications of this are far-reaching.

  10. matthew says:

    hey arc. hanging out is definitely on the agenda — plenty to explore!

  11. matthew says:

    Thank you for your input, Padma.

    How would you suggest that those who are self-reliant by circumstance or by choice pursue their evolution with authenticity?

    Also — if an authentic guru does not accept a student, what should that student do?

  12. matthew says:

    Hey Bob — I've been slow on replies because Scott and I on the road to Vermont for much-need writing retreat. And now we're here, in the silence and the snow, with the woodfire cranked, and surrendering to uncertainty is definitely the theme of the next 10 days. Thanks.

  13. There are some settings that shove the infinite wonder of the universe right up into your face and demand that you experience it!

  14. TamingAuthor says:

    Whew. What would be fascinating would be for teachers or more experienced practitioners to share views about what one would do if they encountered a student like the author of this article. What the heck would one do?

    My first response would be to quickly and quietly walk away. The tangle of confusion, the proverbial bramble bush, is quite daunting. How does one explain to someone that they have been led far far off the path into a line of thinking that is "off the reservation"? That seems insulting. It may seem arrogant. (Which is the reason one walks away not knowing what to say.)

    Mahatma probably faced this problem and tried to finesse a response, probably knowing it was a futile effort. Perhaps the only possible way to enter the conversation is to ask what the author hopes to achieve in the practice and then follow up with what the author imagines is the most that is possible through the practice. In other words, what are the limits the author imagines serve as boundaries in the practice. What could the student expect to be the absolute pinnacle if one were to practice diligently, properly, and with all correct views.

  15. AnnetteVictoria says:

    I love what you're saying in this article, and the way you say it. Really good explanation of the Insider/Outsider dialectic relationship, and of the consolidation/distribution of power in religion/yoga.

    I noticed the word samadhi was not mentioned in your hopes or absolute pinnacle goal. Some would say this means you're not practicing yoga:…. 🙂

    Love the discussion! Keep it up.

  16. […] or Santosha (sometimes spelled Samtosha), is one of the niyamas (observances) given in the Patanjali’s eight limbs of yoga as described in his Yoga Sutras. The yamas (restrictions) are habitual actions […]

  17. Padma Kadag says:

    Those that pursue a spiritual path are able to do as they wish. Spiritual is such a broad term with really no meaning. Guru, however is well defined. Gurus even say that though it is very rare it IS possible for an individual to attain very high realization without a Guru. But those people are very few and far between. My experience which led me to a tradition which involves a Guru was an unsought after experience of indescribable-ness. No Guru, no teaching, no books, no concepts….and yet it unfolded. After months, it was the wearing off. I could not maintain the immediate-ness of this unbounded truth and love. Not knowing how to maintain the openness began a subliminal search for a Guru. First I wanted to find those who would understand but found none. Finally, 14 years after everything I experienced was verified very specifically. The Guru will teach you to maintain without grasping at clarity…so that when you die or in this life now you can go beyond suffering and bring all those that suffer with you

  18. AnnetteVictoria says:

    Overly sweet means excess Kapha, which antidote is bitters and astringents. Dark leafy greens and unripe bananas, here I come! 🙂

    Thanks for your clarification on samadhi. Reminds me of Jill Bolte Taylor's experience. Also raises the question for me: what does samadhi in functional life look like?

  19. matthew says:

    Thank you for your help with my first question. I appreciate your story, and I understand the feeling of needing help to stabilize a revelation. Sounds like you find somebody who helped you with that. And that you were inexorably drawn towards them through your own intuition.

    What about the second question? Do authentic gurus really reject students? How does that work? It sounds cruel to me.

  20. TamingAuthor says:

    Yes, it would be interesting to get other views with respect to a "hypothetical" student, with you filling in. Your article caused me to consider that model as Mahatma appeared to take that role and the article appeared to be a response to instruction.

    Will get back to the specifics on the above response, but first I want to ask if you believe there is such a thing as a "wrong view."

    For example, if we limit ourselves to a discussion of the physical practice and a student shows up who believes the correct regimen is to arrive at McDonalds forty-five minutes prior to yoga class in order to imbibe a ritual meal of two Big Macs, one Quarter Pounder, three orders of fries, one chocolate shake, and then eat an ice cream cone on the way to class, might one consider telling the student that he has a wrong view regarding the proper pre-class regimen? Would this be reasonable? Might he take insult or is there a way to get him to accept that his view is a wrong view (with respect to the practice of yoga)?

  21. Padma Kadag says:

    One more thing….I sat in a series of structured teachings with a Tibetan Khenpo, scholar, who also happened to be quite realized. Everyone knows this. Khenpo's are the intellectual phd types in Tibetan buddhism. But a Khenpo who also has deep realization is very valuable. He was like this. There sat all of his usual students and they were requesting Dzogchen teachings like they always do. The Dzogchen teachings are the pinnacle of everyting. He did not want to give these teachings to the group. Much individual preparation needs to show itself through actual accomplishment before you should even whisper the name of the teachings. Well he proceeded to spend all day and into the next teaching on why he could not give the teachings they requested. Going over in minute detail every condition which needed to be satisfied in order to be ripe enough to understand the Ati teachings. He had given them what they wanted and they did not even know it. This is a Guru. Yet they still discussed at each tea break their remorse for not having the karma to recieve Dzogchen teachings!!! hahaha

  22. Just posted to "Popular Lately" on the new Elephant Yoga homepage.

  23. matthew says:

    Thank you Padma. I am familiar with this process from my time with Buddhist communities. What I don’t understand is that if I were starving for food that alone should qualify me for the kindness of someone with infinite food. I don’t think it’s ethical for the food-guy to make choices about feeding me based on whether or not he likes how I eat.

    I understand that certain mentors and students will rub each other the wrong way, and perhaps should steer clear of each other. But I get lost when karmic theory (who’s linked to who from a past life, for instance) overrides what’s plain to see: someone needs something, and the person who has it claims it is the path to end suffering, and is willing to withhold it. Why would anything precious be withheld? It would be like taking royalties for the polio vaccine.

    I’m going on about this because the teacher’s prerogative to reject the student because of an attitude or view that s/he doesn’t like seems like the opposite of teaching. Does the real guru simply accept yes-men and yes-women?

  24. Padma Kadag says:

    Maybe you can look at it like this…there are so many conditions which, on the surface, may be in play for a Guru to decide whether or not a student is "acceptable" Maybe the student "thinks" they are serious but the Guru sees they are not and refuses them. As in the case of Milarepa, he thinks the first Guru he meets is his salvation when that Guru teaches him black magic and he destroys those who destroyed his family . That Guru then tells him he has karma for Marpa. Marpa at first refuses him then gives him many trials to both purify his karma and test his faith. It was Milarepa's willingness to die for the teachings which finally sealed the deal for him to receive the teachings which would lead to enlightenment from Marpa. But lets not condemn the first "Black Lama"…without him Mila would not have played out the karma to meet Marpa. Our interpretation of a "yes man" is one that has only himself's benefit in mind. There are Gurus which will accept everyone that comes their way.

  25. Padma Kadag says:

    There are Gurus which will teach only a few students…a handful. These Lamas are discerning because they want to be true to their lineage requirements. I understand that you are thinking that if one is a truth seeker and a Guru has the truth to show then why would he refuse that seeker? Because though a Guru is a Guru does not mean his/her style matches with the seeker. My daughter lived in Nepal and her first day there a very important older Tibetan yogi lived upstairs. She went up to meet him and make an offering and he refused to see her. He said return aon a more auspicious day on the Tibetan calender. She did and he treated her as a daughter. He said if they had met that first day there would be no connection. It is that tenuous. Especiaaly with Yogis who are less inclined with teaching large groups. This kind of Guru, with the karma, can lead one all of the way on the path.

  26. Padma Kadag says:

    Then…you may be accepted by a teacher but you notice that some students may be receiving teachings different than yourself. It all depends on your acumen and your karma for teaching. Millions of people do not even know about your Guru. Maybe a couple thousand hear your Guru's name. of those thousand one hundred meet him/her. Maybe fifty want to receive teachings. Maybe two out of the fifty really understand it. I will say that if you are refused by a Guru there is good reason. Maybe the Guru is not really a Guru. Maybe your resolve to follow the path is not there and he/she knows it. Though vajrayana Lamas rest in the nature of mind they understand the influence of the 5 elements and the infinite combinations which they are displayed. This will also determine whether or not a particular student is matching their teaching style.

  27. Padma Kadag says:

    Having said all of that…blah blah…Gurus certainly may not accept you…these days it is very rare. Tibetan Lamas rarely did or do not accept students for good reason…reasons which are similar to your original question…if someone wants to know reality then why keep them from it? When you are exposed to so=called higher teachings…one's karma comes into play more often in regard to whether or not you are suitable for either the teaching or the Guru.

  28. TamingAuthor says:

    In the example offered, the McD's approach to yoga, we would be able to establish it was a wrong view when we see the results. We would be able to match the view with the outcome in the practice. The pre-class regimen counters the expected results, makes them more difficult to attain. We would see how the regimen works against the desired results of the asanas.

    Of course, we could read Satchidananda's commentary on Patanjali, understand the goal of the asanas, and with that in mind, realize the regimen makes no sense. We would abandon McD's without running the experiment.

    This analogy works as we consider other types of views and assess how they enhance or detract from the practice. Of course, we would have to have some idea of where the practice could take us. We would have to understand, through studying with those who have achieved results, what those results might be. Then we could assess our views and determine if they help or hurt our practice.

    In the instance of St. Francis, we might assess how living according to his precepts helps us attain our practical goals for living a good life, a divine life. We might look at his views on poverty and humility and determine if they help us avoid unnecessary conflict. We might look at how he eschews prestige and status and the use of power to coerce and dominate others—and we might find this leads to a better life.

    With Francis we might consider if his approach to spirituality actually takes us to a better understanding of our essential nature. We might consider how it helps us understand the divine presence within all creation. To do this we would have to move into the more advanced works, such as Bonaventure's The Soul's Journey into God which lays out the path of Franciscan spirituality in stages.

    Then we might compare the lessons we receive from Francis with other paths to spirituality and discover he taught ideas we find in Buddhism (in particular) and in yoga, in general. When we see a common thread, with repeated themes, appearing in common with the most advanced teachers, we begin to understand the nature of correct views. We then compare our views with those views, as a preliminary step before we test the views in the actual practice.

    We might recognize a common theme regarding enlightenment regarding the true nature of things. We could then inspect our views — and perhaps see they stand in direct opposition to views expressed by those most advanced and most enlightened in the various disciplines. This would at least put us on notice that we might be holding a wrong view.

    Now, if we must cling to wrong views, there is no hope. There is impasse. So we would have to first take time to become familiar with our tendency to cling to wrong views. We might have to chip away at that foundation of samsara before moving forward.

    At the end of the day, however, we will find the McD's example beneficial. There are wrong views that are the mental equivalent of eating a few Big Macs before heading to class. They create an impasse in the practice. We cannot move forward, but rather we advance in a circular manner, one minute going for the goal and in the next moment going against the goal. We get nowhere.

    And, yes, just like the McD's example, it is not a matter of belief. It has never been a matter of belief. It is a matter of experience, a matter of firsthand observation, and, in the early stages being able to listen to the firsthand observations of others without the need to dismiss those observations as a result of a compulsion to cling to wrong views. Does that begin to make sense?

  29. Padma Kadag says:

    "Haha"…means.."aren't we funny? how what we want is right under our noses"…that is all. Not to laugh AT those "silly" students. It it certainly is under our noses. The example was given to illustrate something very crucial, and certainly one who is as sensitive as yourself should understand, every Vajrayana teaching contains the entire path. From the beginning to the completionment. No matter how brief a teaching or if it goes on for months it contains a path to enlightenment. IF…the teaching is from an authentic Guru. And yet we keep going back for teachings because we just dont get it yet. If the Vajrayana or any path were relly truly "open" to whoever…then we would all be there right now with no one left out. But as long s we are subject to 5 elements and its many forms here on thisearth then people will be subject to their karma. Some do not know the name Guru. Some dont want a GUru. Some want and cannot find. Some find and do not know it and so on.

  30. Greg, you know that I often disagree with your views and comments, but when you nail it you really nail it. I have to admit this is a pretty brilliant response. I especially like your broad universalist outlook on spirituality.

    Our biggest cyber-battles in the past have been when you insist that the above process necessarily leads to exactly the same "right answers" for every seeker, namely your right answers.

  31. matthew says:

    Dear Taming. I do understand what you are taking the time to express. You bring up two thoughts for me.

    First, your emphasis on views suggests a learning curve that begins with comparison and analysis, and progresses through applied experience, and ends with realization. Have you seen this order scrambled in some of your fellow practitioners? I have, for example, seen folks enter yoga practice with no consideration of view at all, or because they wanted to stabilize a realization. My thought is that views are cognitive, and they accompany and influence experience to be sure, but are not determinant.

    Second, since the bulk of this article involved an examination of the religious attitude in yoga, I'd like to point out certain of your statements that I read as statements of faith, and see if you can tell me whether our full communication depends on us sharing such faith positions. This is the crux, so to speak, of our discourse.

    Here are what I read as faith statements:

    "We could read Satchidananda's commentary on Patanjali, understand the goal of the asanas…"

    "…those who have achieved results…"

    "…how it helps us understand the divine presence within all creation…"

    "…those most advanced and most enlightened…"

    Please know I am not attempting to debunk or criticize. My aim is to help us distinguish between those things that we can share (ideas and practices), and those things that make communication a zero-sum game (articles of faith). Thank you.

  32. Mat says:

    The underlying problem of this is that drawing a conclusion that either hypothesis is true is impossible based on what is a common (and Western?) misunderstanding that wants to set form and content – or perhaps substance and essence in an over-simplified and cliched (black and white) relationship with each other.

    This is what TamingAuthor is (I think) explaining with McD fast food metaphor – here we are being led along the unsatisfactory method of answers informing our questions – just like the tails wag the dogs – right ?

    Now – the trouble with TA's evidence-based, somatic rationalism is that it relies on some fairly cumbersome noetics.

    To be frank – as these boxes are painfully small for informed and useful debate – the "suck-it-and-see" yoga is for pussies, since our salvation is not dependant in resolving these – and other (false) dilemmas raised by 2.0 but rather in how we might unfold this very cross (bound and angry) pentalemma of form, sensation, perception, formations and consciousness.

    The ("Buddhistic"), atomist conception, especially as expounded in the "Higher Teachings" of the Abhidharma manages to at least capture these false conceptions through analysis but comes up a little short on emphasising the philosophical dimension and instead does well at outlining a psycho-therapeutic analysis of phenomena that TA would probably feel quite at home with, it is all very "cosy".

    But a more advanced and challenging position is available to us, one which I suggest can help us move beyond these cosmetic (well – if that is too harsh – maybe aesthetic) concerns.

    The (relatively) unknown Yogacara fork sets us on a course towards the perspective of a mereological nihlist – especially in the (later) Madhyamaka school – the assertion is that debates such as these, (in that they hinge on a complex phenomenological rendering) are actually… rather self-obsessive.

    In good time we might consider what is right under our self-obsessed noses – reality.

    Reality is empty of "substance", meaning it has no substantive, independent reality apart from how we might want to notionally and conventionally want to describe it, we are simply doing the best we can to follow the causes and conditions from which this reality arises.

    Derrida states: "Ascesis strip[s the messianic hope of all its biblical forms, and even all determinable figures of the wait or expectation; it thus denudes itself in view of responding to (…) the 'come' to the future that cannot be anticipated"

    Ascesis for me, and insofar as yoga can be described as such – is not about explicit / implict expectation – or the lack of either one (and hopefully not invoking some dreadful holistic or transcendental cliches) – yoga is both an alternative beginning and an alternative end of the problems that we create for ourselves, and also the ones that are created for us.

    Yoga is the question and the answer – and this I think brings us nicely back what we might consider as being Mahatmas position – although I would say the guru is actually a bit of a Red Herring (sorry PK and Mahatma). @Bob btw – I don't see any universalism here – as previously discussed – universalism is only useful if one wants to offer horse meat (that is: after the flogging) to a large number of vegetarians.

  33. Mat says:

    I hope I am not arguing with myself, so – just to be clear, the problem/enigma is: whether or not religion is a specific example of a general structure of ("false/synthetic/dubious") messianicity (another, rather petty concern of 2.0) or an absolute event, an irreducible event which has unveiled a ("true/authentic/unequivocal") messianicity (read: Padma K's comments above about "go seek a guru").

  34. matthew says:

    Thanks for that clarifying bit, Mat. Are either of these two positions on religion falsifiable? I can't see that they are. That's why it seems that the only fertile strategy for dealing with religious questions might be to collect and present data on sociological and psychological effect/affect of religious attitude.

  35. jaltucher says:

    A couple of thoughts:
    A) I wonder if Mahatma feels that he doesn't really have an authentic teacher and he's projecting that frustration out on you. Authenticity ultimately comes from the inside. Krishnacharya studied from many teachers but (from what I can gather) ultimately trusted his own heart over the course of a 90 year studying of the sutras as to what was right and what was wrong.

    B) yoga in western world is affected more by marketing than philosophy. Its marketed and branded as exercise. not as spirituality. So this has to evolve. But I have a feeling it is (thanks to efforts like EJ, etc) .

  36. Padma Kadag says:

    The problem I have is my opinions usually are not nuanced enough to lay out the organic-ness of the process of a Lama/student relationship. I have a tendency to blurt out it in machine gun fashion my thoughts when writing on a blog. I apologize. Karma is not a theory to me…it is not something you dust off every now and then to study. Karma is the movie which is playing right now. Previous actions have been taken and we currently are experiencing the result. Whether it is habit of thought which plays like a tape loop over and over or the very body you currently inhabit and all of its charms and pains. All that our mind seemingly perceives is the result of endless previous actions which are now coming to fruition . The more we believe this movie like display the more entrenched we are in samsara. That is karma. The Buddha showed the way out. So to answer you question…as a student Karma does not enter my ordinary thinking in regard to my teacher. Nor do I question my connection to my teacher. If my mind is becoming more spacious due to the arousal of bodhicitta and meditation then I am making progress…therefore my teacher is doing his/her job so to speak and then there is no doubt that we are karmically connected.

  37. Padma Kadag says:

    Your last question…I do become disconsolate that the teachings are not more widely known. Disconsolate that we continue to believe in the solidity of all things solid and that we are fooled by this scheme of subject/object. In the vajrayana, the chosen deity which we exemplify and do the sadhana of that deity…we practice so that we become that deity whether it is Tara or Guru Rinpoche. It begins with a seed syllable arising in the endless beginningless sky. This seed syllable is not seperate from pure buddha nature and it is ripe with unrestrained potential. But before the syllable can arise there would have had to have been the arousal of Bodhicitta…unrestrained Love and compassion for all beings and their current state of confusion not knowing that right now there is sublime emptiness free from flaws and suffering. That like a mother that cares for her sick child. Without feeling that Love and Compassion. That heart felt disconsolate-ness, Buddha nature will not be realized. This is more than a method or a trick…this is Buddhism. Really crying for all beings till it comes out our pores. Then if we are fortunate to realize our true nature then we are really doing something to alleviate suffering

  38. TamingAuthor says:

    Did not recognize myself in your suppositions regarding my views in the above analysis.

    Guess that sends a signal, a big flashing neon light, that says, "What we have here is a failure to communicate."

    Perhaps we spend our days walking on different planets. (?)

  39. TamingAuthor says:

    Bob, thanks. See the response to Matthew (below) for more.

  40. TamingAuthor says:

    Once again, the question becomes how to enter the dialogue effectively. What would a really good teacher do?

    Bob brings up an interesting point in the form of his past response to my posts. He assumed I was holding a narrow or exclusive viewpoint that did not embrace plurality. This arose from our discussion of right views and wrong views when it comes to the practice.

    Whenever one argues another has a wrong or incorrect view — BAM — one hits the wall, as views are so close to identity that one has threatened a person's identity. Their life, their existence, is endangered. Defenses rise. Walls become established. The discussion grinds to a halt. People retreat to respective corners.

    This is the common scenario one finds in the practices. Good teachers appear to understand this and they go sit someone in silence and wait for people who are desperate and ruined and will listen. That doesn't happen all that often.

    With that in mind, in the next comment I will attempt to pull back, put some distance in place, and comment on what I feel is the divide between wrong views and correct views.

  41. TamingAuthor says:

    Wrong views versus correct views…

    In yoga, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Christianity there are certain common views expressed by those advanced in the respective practices:

    1) Our true essence is that of an immaterial, immortal spiritual being.
    2) Our identity as a body is a temporary affair, a false self.
    3) Consciousness does not arise from material conditions, but rather precedes material conditions.
    4) All natural phenomena arise from primary consciousness.
    5) The concept that consciousness is an emergent property of matter is an error.
    6) Through the practice one can come to know one's true nature.
    7) Through the practice one can come to know the true nature of all phenomena.
    8) Ignorance, sin, suffering, are all brought about by an inability to recognize our true nature.

    These axioms are not matters of belief or faith, but rather are observable truths that can be known in a firsthand manner by those who practice diligently.

    Thus, when it comes to these practices, which have common elements, one finds agreement that wrong views are those views that contradict the basic axioms or prevent us from realizing their veracity.

    A wrong view would be something that stands in the way of our realizing our true nature as an immortal spiritual being. A wrong view would be something that stands in the way of our knowing the true nature of phenomena as contingent and dependently-arisen. And so on….

    We find one particular set of views or beliefs that stand in opposition to all these practices, a set of wrong views that prevent us from knowing the axioms in a firsthand manner.

    Those wrong views can be lumped under the premises of materialism or naturalism. Rather than considering such views a philosophical school, it is better to look at them as the product of attachment, entanglement, ignorance, and sin. In other words, in the wrong views of materialism one has a finger on the conditions and considerations that stand in opposition to enlightenment, salvation, or transcendence.

    One could approach the practice in a reverse manner. Rather than use the positive axioms as guideposts, one could use premises of materialism as a negative path. One could set out to prove the wrong views of materialism to be true and one would arrive at the opposite—one sets out to prove Hypothesis A based on materialism and finds it false and so is left with Hypothesis B, which has an Idealistic or supernatural basis.

    In other words, each assumption of materialism, when inspected closely, would prove untrue and one would be left with the positive axiom in its place. One can "get there" going either direction around the circle, as long as one is truly intent on looking and observing. (Of course one can become so entangled in wrong views that looking itself becomes impossible. That is a downside to the negative route, one becomes entangled in those things that obscure vision while trying to look, but it can be done.)

    So, for example, a wrong view in the practice would be anything that prevents one from experiencing and knowing that one is not the body. Any practice that pins one to the body and leaves one saying "I am completely and only this biological form" would be a wrong view and wrong practice.

    And we find this in all the religious practices—all warn us about becoming attached to the false self of the biological entity of the body. In all these practices there is an attempt to recognize and experience a cessation of attachment and thus a separation of consciousness/soul from the body. That is one simple example.

    Thus, one can look at all the spiritual practices and find a set of common axioms derived by advanced practitioners that can serve as guideposts, as right views. And one can look carefully and see if one is clinging to views that stand in opposition to those axioms. One can thus measure whether or not one is moving up the path or down the path. Axiomatic views based on the observation of advanced practitioners become spiritual GPS devices.

    A caveat should be added. Views are not confined to the cognitive. Instead they are fundamentally derived from actual viewing. They may be expressed in cognitive language for the purpose of sharing in discussion but they are fundamentally views arising from actual viewing or observing of a firsthand nature. They are what we view as conscious, aware, spiritual beings — when we are released from entanglement and attachment.

    Hope that clarifies. It tells us a really good teacher would concentrate on finding ways to help others view. This would be a two step process. It include removing things that block vision (so one could see) and it would include directing attention (so one could see actual existence).

  42. TamingAuthor says:

    An excellent statement of the problem, the dilemma.

    There is a significant collection of individuals—the Buddha Shakyamuni, numerous Rinpoches, Patanjali, Satchidananda, advanced yogis, numerous Christian mystics (the list goes on)—who agree on the basic axioms. The basics are universal. Observed over and over. Very similar testimony regarding observation.

    Then we have the view "how do I know they aren't making things up?" Valid question. The way to answer that question is to: a) attempt to understand what those who have such experience are actually saying and, b) follow the practice to see if one has the same observations. (If one does not follow the practice it is certain one will not experience the same observations.)

    At the same time, one has to consider (honestly and with diligence), "What barriers exist that might prevent me from viewing as they do?" This question aligns with the practice which states the problem to be overcome is obfuscation, ignorance, and attachment to that which is false. In other words, rather than clinging to the cynical question (are they making things up?) one turns to "what views might obscure my vision?"

    This takes us back to the beginning of our exchange. What would a master teacher say or do that allows someone to set aside attached views in order to observe beyond delusion and illusion that keeps one attached? How does one dance around the implied threat contained in the comment, "You might have wrong views that prevent you from observing."

    Your statement of interest (who we are and what is happening to us and how are we changing) is precisely the subject covered in all these disciplines. They speak precisely to who we are (in our true essence). They speak to what is happening to us (in the most fundamental manner possible). And they speak to the changes taking place (with uncanny accuracy).

    In the practices mentioned the approach is primarily concerned with taking away that which obscures vision. The question is almost always "what is preventing me from seeing?" It requires an ongoing inventory of that which stands in the way.

    One possible barrier is inherent cynicism; there are views we become attached to that distort and evaluate so that we automatically, without observing, reject. This phenomenon prompted my comment at the very beginning of our dialogue regarding "how does a master teacher cut through the bramble bushes blocking willingness to consider observing?"

    Certain views expressed in your analysis betray cynicism that obfuscates. There is an a priori rejection of possibilities. The task for a good teacher would be to determine how to bring about a situation in which you could, for even a short period, detach from cynicism so you could observe that cynicism with an eye toward discovering "what is this view?" How does this view protect me? What does this view block from sight so I do not have to see? What could there possibly be that I do not want to see? And so on…

    One could look at the basic axioms and list the opposing view. That opposing view could then be inspected. What is there about the other view that is valid? Why? What observation verifies the opposite? Or in what ways might the opposite view be part of attachment, obfuscation, and illusion? There is much work that can be done just with this simple exercise.

    Good discussion. Thanks for your willingness to kick the tires and see what might happen.

  43. matthew says:

    Hey J, thanks for the input —

    A) is an interesting proposal, for sure. I think the problem with the authentic teacher ideal is that it is unprovable/unstable even to the devotee, and s/he knows it, and therefore must defend it tooth and nail. That's the nature of giving your power away: you never know if it will be given back, or if it was worth the sacrifice.

    Scott and I were just discussing B) and were thinking that the glory of modern yoga is that it may be one of those rare broad cultural movements that are at least nominally interested in philosophy. It may be marketing and exercise-heavy, but almost everyone who brushes up against it is encouraged to think more deeply about their lives.

  44. Padma Kadag says:

    Mathew…what i stated previously is not an argument, as you state. It is a method. Your view of Buddhism is a little off. If you see that understanding the real suffering of others as being a condemnation then there is nothing I can say which could make sense to you. If you feel that a method, of which you are not engaged, is less effective than "charity" then you do not know the method nor the blessing. Then the entire message of the Buddha is one which you should not, at moments, pretend to understand.

  45. TamingAuthor says:

    Ah, the bramble bushes are thick. And we lack tools to cut through them.

    I'm convinced only one variable matters — the individual's personal decision they are tired of samsara and suffering (and the related terms in the other disciplines). Then a second variable comes into play — awareness there's a way out. Without those variables, there is no movement, only turning around in circles.

    The caricature of theology and faith presented does not match what I set out. The description does not fit. The patina of cynicism does not allow an accurate perception. There appears to be a battle with old demons in play. In that sense, cynicism is a karmic "out of the present moment" phenomenon, not the unfettered inquiry recommended by the Buddha. There is a big difference. The Buddha said, follow me and do what I do and you will see. If you stay where you are, you will not see what the Buddha had to show you. Very simple.

    In fact, in my previous notes, I suggested exactly what the Buddha would suggest… look at the axioms, and look at their antithesis—explore and discover what is truly there. You can start with the axiom or its antithesis. Doesn't matter. Not sure why that part of my suggestion went unnoticed. (The cynicism monster or lap dog must be appeased?).

    Theology is actually quite simple. It is the study of the relationship between man and God. God is love. And in man we find a spark of the divine, love that seeks union with other love and greater love. This can be found in Christianity, Buddhism, yoga, Hinduism. Theology is simply the study of the attempt to strip away all factors that bring about separation from love. That's the simplicity of it.

    There is an overlap with philosophy in theology but too much of philosophy has devolved into a head-scratching-navel-gazing-think-think useless activity. Theology has a more robust connection to being and action and living in love.

    Cynicism is a sickness borne out of a lack of faith but it has nothing to do with substituting blind faith, as implied. Rather cynicism simply prevents one from knowing truth by stepping into truth; cynicism insists one know from afar but one can never really know from afar. One is limited to the imperfect knowledge of "knowing about" rather than actual "knowing by being." (It is the knowledge of a girlfriend gained by looking at her picture rather than being with her.)

    Faith is simply the willingness to be what one seeks to know. When it comes to fundamental truths one can only "know by being." Epistemology and ontology converge. (True in Buddhism, Christianity, yoga, Hinduism.)

    This sets up a divide between those who are willing to practice diligently (and thus become what they seek to know) and those who distance themselves with a veneer of cynicism. The distance imposed by cynicism prevents knowing.

    There will always be a divide between those who "know through being" and those who cannot close the gap and can never know through being. In essence this type of cynicism mandates separation and separation sin, ignorance, and clinging to falsehood (that which is removed from truth). Major catch-22. So cynicism ends up being a lot more than mere attitude. It is a wrong view that prevents knowing by being and thus closes off the study of the fundamental truths of Buddhism, yoga, Christianity, Hinduism. It places one forever on the other side of the store window looking in, staring at the picture of the girlfriend but never touching her.

    As for your analysis of my dependence on the testimony of "those I have not met" I refer you to the very last verse of the Dhammapada for a glimpse of a different viewpoint. Check it out.

  46. TamingAuthor says:

    The problem with discussion comments on line is that we cannot share smiles and the broader bandwidth they express. Sometimes a smile says more than all the words.

    Will address your list. I must be brief for the sake of available time.

    1. No problem with personal responsibility for reading of texts. Felt the article, however, stood ten paces back from the texts. Felt it missed the idea that the texts were simply guides to actual observation.

    2. Did not mean to fire off an ad hom in your direction. As I strained to note, it is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to assist another identify wrong views. It was the dilemma of wrong views I was addressing more than your personal state. Though, in the spirit of your being the author of the article, I used you as a character in the story. Not meant in a mean way.

    BTW, #2 is related to #1. Wrong views prevent an analysis of the texts as they are seen through a filter.

    3. The hopes request was meant to set up a personal benchmark you hoped to achieve so that a discussion of pragmatic practice could follow. If one hopes to get to New York, one needs a good road map to New York.

    4. Discussion of wrong views was related to #3. With wrong views one does not get to the intended goal. One ends up in Tucson rather than New York.

    5. The junk food example was meant to address the practical nature of the practice. It is an easy example to understand. If one engages in actions that stand in direct opposition to the practice, one does not get far. This analogy applies to the more subtle aspects of the practice. Cling to materialism and it is game over.

    6. The entire purpose of the Buddha's teaching, the teachings of yoga, the teachings of Christianity is that those who follow can reverse engineer and take a path that leads to results. If one insists on tossing out the blueprints, just like the map to New York, one will not arrive. This is pretty simple.

    7. It has been difficult to convey the message that you are adding a filter to the discussion regarding "faith statements." That filter is a cynical filter that does not allow the light to come through… so what you see is not what is there.

    I keep saying it is "red" and your filter makes it appear as mauve. There is an insistence on redefining the nature of what I am saying through that filter. That is the challenge I mentioned at the beginning—the challenge of facing a filter in operation. The dilemma is how does one communicate clearly when what one says will be filtered so that what arrives is not what was sent.

    8. The wrong views are the filters that prevent seeing something as it is. The filter limits reality to a particular box so that when something appears that does not fit into that box it is crumpled up to make it fit. The wrong views are the pantheon of assumptions arising out of materialism.

    see part two…

  47. TamingAuthor says:

    part two

    9. Spiritual truths are universally transcendental. That is their nature. In Buddhism, Hinduism, yoga, Christianity the axioms are all transcendental. They are supernatural. That is the nature of the subject. That is the nature of the observations. That is the nature of the practice and the discipline.

    Thus, when one tries to interface with the material, when one attempts exegesis, that is a given. If one brings an anti-transcendental, anti-supernatural filter to the reading, one cannot grasp the material.

    An analogy would be coming upon ancient Egyptian texts and assuming Chinese hieroglyphics will work as a translation key. Won't work. In the same way when you come to works that arise from the direct observation of transcendental and supernatural truths with a view that holds that such truths cannot exist… well, no exegesis takes place, no practice takes place, no enlightenment takes place. It is a dead end.

    And I did not say that one must first accept such axioms. Rather I pointed out one must know what they are. Then, one can go about verifying them through the practice. And I noted that one can have a list of opposing axioms and then attempt to verify them as well. Works either way but you must know what is being said—if the Buddha says X and you read it as Y it is a dead end.

    10. The axioms do not require faith as I have stated over and over. The filter is at work. Your assumption is that one cannot know such axioms in a direct and observable manner. That prevents you from actually listening to those like the Buddha, like Patanjali, like Christ, like other mystics and teachers, when they say you can know this directly. And with the assumption in place that there is nowhere to go… it is a dead end.

    11. Cynicism is an obstacle. It prevents one from knowing through being. It demands you always remain removed. Kills the deal. The issue of how one communicates and communes with others who have spiritual awareness is a topic onto itself. Beyond this discussion. (But it is there in the various texts.)

    12. Cynicism is a barrier. It is a wrong view. A nasty filter. It will stop your progress. Dead end. Reasoned and diligent inquiry and practice are not the same as cynicism. The problem with many in the skeptic movement is not that they want careful diligent observation but rather the attitude of cynicism which does not allow for observation. This is the cornerstone of the wrong views we are up against.

    Perhaps the centerpiece of the conversation regarding views is how to parse cynicism and recognize or discern the difference between cynicism and the disciplined observation that is key to any spiritual insight. This is not about a desire to accept or promote blind faith. It is about the engagement that is necessary to enter into disciplined observation. One cannot show up to the practice wearing a blindfold and hope to engage in valid observation.

    see part three

  48. TamingAuthor says:

    part three

    13. Brambles, yes. Some day you will laugh and say, "I get it. The Buddha was clever in his descriptions." Faith is not so much a leap into the unknown as a positive step forward along a path that has guidelines with the reason intact. Big difference between blind faith (leap into the unknown) and the effort to engage the texts and the practice on their own ground.

    One can place ropes around a compound and say, I will go anywhere inside that enclosure but I will not take a step outside those limits. Well, the path of the Buddha or Patanjali or Christ is outside the path you have walked. One does not have to leap, but one does have to remove the rope and be willing to walk outside the old boundaries.

    14. The axioms are simply signposts. They are ways to orient yourself. They are what the texts tells us about the journey of those who have walked the path. They assist in guiding the inquiry. They let you know if you have strayed in a different direction led by false views. At all times they are to be verified and checked. Without such signposts you could walk around and around in a circle and never realize you are going nowhere.

    15. We could enjoy each other's company but you might get tired of my reminding you that if you intend to undertake a metaphysical path then it will be metaphysical. A path that leads to observation and awareness of that which goes beyond the natural — aka the supernatural —will be metaphysical.

    Some day you may laugh at the idea of trying to go to New York when your mental filter has expunged New York from all the maps you possess. It is an odd way to proceed. But that is exactly what is taking place when there is an a priori that states the supernatural, the metaphysical, does not exist but you are going to study a subject that is specifically about the supernatural. When one insists on going along with others to New York at the same time you declare there is no such place as New York causes problems.

    16. The text I referenced, the Dhammapada, explains an expanded view of experience. It references more advanced aspects of the practice, which clarify the question you asked.

    The bottom line is that all the great spiritual teachers have taught about fundamental spiritual and supernatural realities they have observed. If one follows their path and engages the practice one can verify firsthand that their observations were accurate. But it requires the journey. There are those who will assure you there is no journey and nothing to observe. It is always our choice to believe such cynicism, but I cannot think of a good reason or a good outcome that comes from not knowing and standing still within the bramble bushes. Can you?

  49. […] Until my first year of college, I had never given much thought to the relationship between science and spirituality. I, like many of you I would guess, had accepted the paradigm I had been given by my foremothers and forefathers without much skepticism—science and spirituality existed on opposite ends of a continuum, and if there was any relationship between them it was one of discord and disagreement. Science, I had been told, was devoted to logic and empiricism; while spirituality was rooted fundamentally in that esoteric thing we call faith. […]