A few years ago I attended a workshop – by whom I can’t remember – and was given a copy of the following article. I had forgotten I had it until recently, when it fell out of one of my yoga books. I really connected to this interpretation of the opening mantra, so I thought I would complete a search and if successful post it as a blog. So here you are and I hope you enjoy it and get as much from it as I have.

Interpretation of Ashtanga Yoga mantra – John Berlinsky

Ashtanga practice is traditionally begun with the recitation of the mantra. What we call the Ashtanga Mantra is really two shlokas from different sources. The first is a verse from the “Yoga Taravalli” by Sri Shankaracharya and the second verse is from a longer prayer to Patanjali.

The Ashtanga mantra has been translated a number of times with various interpretations of the individual words. Instead of looking at the mantra as a literal translation of the Sanskrit, I see the mantra as an invocation and living part of our yoga practice.

Many times we routinely recite the mantra before practice without really feeling a connection to it. Regarding the mantra as an invocation sets the tone and the intention of our practice. This provides a guide to experience our asana practice in a larger philosophical context — a context directly related to the Patanjali Yoga Sutras and the eight limbs of Ashtanga Yoga.

I see the mantra as metaphorical in the way it guides us in our own practice. The first line, “I pray to the lotus feet of the supreme guru” is not necessarily a command to pray to the feet of an individual that we think of as our guru, but is a metaphor for the practice itself. By thinking of the practice as the guru, we offer ourselves to it and look to it for guidance. The first line is an invocation to surrender to our practice. The word surrender, however, can be interpreted it two very different ways. Taken in the western context, surrender is a term of weakness and giving up. In the context of hatha yoga philosophy, surrender is a quality that comes from fearlessness, trust and confidence — a quality of strength. These qualities are made clear in the Bhagavad Gita. In surrendering to our yoga practice, we offer ourselves to the practice itself, trusting that it will lead us in a beneficial direction.

The remainder of the first verse of the mantra defines what the practice itself can do when we think of the practice as the “supreme guru.” The second line contains two words that, to me, capture the essence of yoga practice — sukha bodhe. Sukha is usually translated as happiness. Bodhe comes from the Sanskrit root “bd” pronounced bood, as in “to know”. Buddha is probably the most widely known word from this root which means “one who knows or has knowledge.” Together, the words Sukhava bodhe describe a true goal of yoga practice: the knowledge of happiness. In the context of the mantra, the supreme guru reveals the sukhava bodhe of our own self, or svatma.

The third line of the mantra uses a metaphor for ashtanga practice. The jangalikayamane is one who is able to cure or heal. The words “nih sreyase” mean “without comparison” or “beyond better.” In other words, the curative possibility of practice itself is without equal. It is beyond comparison with any other thing. The last line of this first verse, like the second line, tells what the supreme guru may do. This line also includes two words that capture the essence of yoga practice. Moha means delusion and S(h)antyai means pacification. This last word is related to the word shanti, or peace. Mohasantyai can be thought of as the pacification, or peaceful resolution of delusion. This relates to the two previous words Samsara Halahala the poison of samsara or conditioned existence. Our samaras hold us in conditioned patterns of limitation. These are limitations that we experience in our practice, in our emotional and spiritual lives and in our egos. Often we are unconscious of these patterns which create negative, or poisonous, delusion. To think of yoga practice as a vehicle for the pacification of this delusion is a powerful idea that calls for devotion, willingness and surrender within ourselves.

This first verse of the mantra guides us toward the potential offerings of our practice. The mantra doesn’t encourage regarding practice or the “perfection” of asanas themselves as goals. Practice is not about achievement or acquisition. Thinking back to the idea of surrender, the mantra offers a possibility of what practice may bring us if we approach it with reverence, trust and humility. The second shloka of the mantra is an homage to Patanjali. The Patanjali Yoga Sutras, a root text of hatha yoga philosophy, are a guide to yoga as a spiritual practice and an examination of our own true self and nature. The Patanjali Sutras can be seen as the “supreme guru” of the first verse of the mantra. The sutras clearly define the ideas embodied in the first verse and greatly expand upon them. By bowing, or offering pranamans to Patanjali, we symbolically acknowledge yoga practice as a spiritual practice which offers “sukhava bodhe” or, the true knowledge of happiness.

In January the gyms are all packed with people working out there new years resolutions. So most are probably off to a flying start to the year. Come March there’ll be tumble weed blowing across the circuit training area, I’m exaggerating slightly for effect here : )

I’m in my 2nd year of Mysore style practice and am committed to practicing 3-4 days a week. This feels sustainable for me at the moment, but I know that there are many ups and downs on the road ahead.

Something I’ve been thinking about over the break was this: I love yoga and particularly Ashtanga Yoga, with the constant repetition and refinement of the primary series.  But how does one sustain the commitment to this rather demanding practice over a long period of time?

Here are some things that I’ve found useful:

1. practicing regularly in a group – despite the fact that I’m ultimately developing a deeper relationship with myself through self-practice, doing it in a group is really supportive and motivating.
2. practicing regularly with a good teacher – having a teacher who cares and is familiar with your body and can give adjustments where necessary is also great.
3. workshops – I recently did a 2 day workshop where we spent half the first day breaking down each of the stages within Surya Namaskara A. This really had a profound impact.
4. coffee – I often share the trials of my practice with regulars and this has can lead to a sense of identification when others share their own experiences. We each have to find our own answers but others can shine a light on things in a different way.
5. reading – Despite the practical nature of regular practice reading books has been an invaluable way of achieving a greater understanding.

I’m curious, how do you sustain your practice?

Last week I managed to bind without help (on my good side) in Marichyasana D for the first time! I remember the first time I did this asana – It was excrutiating and continued to be rather painful for about a year. In those early days I kept having to be reminded to breathe. Breathing does make everything easier ; )

It often feels like there are long plateaux in my practice, where things don’t seem to change. This can be disheartening particularly when I’m feeling impatient and frustrated. So I’m sharing my small victory as it’s given me a little hope and reminded me that things do change.

Namaste.

Today was my second worst practice day ever! My body felt like it was cold, filled with liquid cement and I had no energy. I got as far as Marichyasana C and that was about all I could manage before finishing off with the closing asanas.

I’m not giving myself too hard a time though because I know that getting up regularly at 5:30am to practice and doing 5 A  and 5 B sun salutations is quite an achievement. But damn was it tough today! It’s a relief to know these things pass and tomorrow will be different.

Just thought I’d share it in case anyone else is having a tough time.

I’ve noticed over the last year or so that I’ve been practicing Mysore style classes regularly (on average 3 times a week) that I’ve developed a rather sweet tooth. Has anyone else had experience of this?

Perhaps I’m just making excuses to guzzle lots of cake, and chocolate brownies ; )

I also found that I took to drinking coffee in a big way, perhaps a response to getting up at 5:30am. Although I’ve since weaned myself off it and actually feel much less tired without coffee in the morning.