The Eighteen Yogas of the Bhagavad-gītā
[This is a draft of a work-in-progress, part of an introduction to the Bhagavad-gītā that is meant for publication in Chinese (Mandarin) language. It is an overview of the eighteen chapters of the Gītā, chapter by chapter, with a focus on the yoga aspect of each chapter (following the traditional chapter titles which all include the word ‘yoga’). Here, after some opening paragraphs, are the first two chapters – KrKSwami]
We may remember that the Bhagavad-gītā is a small, though very important, section of the vastly longer epic poem, the Mahābhārata. In the Mahābhārata, the great Battle of Kurukṣetra is about to commence. This battle (recounted in the course of several parvans, or large portions, of the Mahābhārata) will be fought over a period of eighteen days, the culmination of a years-long feud over sovereignty of a kingdom, between the five sons of Paṇḍu—the Pāṇḍavas—and their one-hundred cousins, the Kauravas. Intrigue, cheating, and political positioning over several years have led to this battle, which involves the several kings of Bharatavarṣa, the land presently known as India. Duryodhana, leader of the Kaurava brothers, has rejected all conciliatory gestures by the Pāṇḍavas who, ever since childhood, had suffered numerous abuses by him.
On the first day of the battle, prior to the first armed engagement, the Pāṇḍava warrior, Arjuna, and his charioteer, Krishna, hold an extended consultation. It is this dialogue, in which Krishna counsels Arjuna on focused engagement (yoga), that constitutes the Bhagavad-gītā.
Each of the eighteen chapters of the Bhagavad-gīta has, traditionally, a Sanskrit title which includes the word yoga. Thus, for example, Chapter 1 is entitled Arjuna-viṣāda-yoga (The Yoga of Arjuna’s Dejection), and Chapter 2 is entitled Sāṅkhya-yoga (the Yoga of Analysis). The inclusion of this term in each chapter title helps readers to be aware of two features of the text. First, the entire Gītā is about yoga, providing a wide-ranging comprehension of yoga’s principles and processes; and second, each of the eighteen chapters function as complete units, one chapter offering a particular approach to the over-all message of spiritual engagement (yoga). Each chapter is both analytical and synthetic in character—opening out the subject in careful scrutiny and drawing together apparently diffuse ideas into a unified (yoga) vision.
Here we will overview the Bhagavad-gītā chapter by chapter, both to gain a sense of the essential contours of the work, and to call attention to the varied ways in which yoga is represented throughout the work. As we will see, while the Gītā has a definite linear progression from Chapter 1 through Chapter 18, it is also a “song” (gītā), complete with refrains and a rich, varied rhythm of expanding and heightening vision of cosmic order and consciousness, and of the hope and possibility for human individual and collective well-being.
1. The Yoga of Arjuna’s Dejection (arjuna-viṣāda-yoga)
Dhṛtaraṣṭra, father of the Kaurava brothers, was blind from birth. It is he to whom the Bhagavad-gītā is narrated by his secretary, Sañjaya. Sañjaya, quite the opposite of Dhṛtaraṣṭra, has been blessed with special powers of yoga vision by sage Vyāsa. Therefore, although he is not present on the battlefield, he can see all that happens there.
Just prior to the beginning of the great battle, Sañjaya describes the battlefield arrangements to Dhṛtaraṣṭra. As the warriors on the two opposing sides stand facing each other from a distance, anticipating a signal for the battle to begin, Arjuna requests Krishna to bring his chariot between the two armies, so that he may survey the Kauravas and their supporters, all “desirous to fight” (1.21). But then, when he sees his teachers and uncles with their sons and friends all standing on the threshhold of death, Arjuna withers in distressed confusion, his mind reeling at the terrible prospect of death and destruction facing him.
In this state, Arjuna asks Krishna existential questions: “What purpose is gained by winning the pleasures of a kingdom, when all those with whom we would enjoy it will be killed? Even if they kill me, I have no desire to kill them” (1.32-34).
Arjuna goes on to present several reasons why he should not fight in the battle. These arguments—mainly about the devastating social consequences of so many men being killed, leaving behind unprotected women—serve to convince us that Arjuna is a thoughtful, socially conscious, and noble person. By the end of the chapter, we might feel that Arjuna is justified (especially from a consequentialist moral perspective) in withdrawing from the battlefield before the battle begins.
Arjuna may be justified in withdrawing from the battlefield, but he is also deeply dejected. Unlike Duryodana and his armies, who see only friends and enemies in relation to themselves, Arjuna suffers from having a broader vision: he sees everyone present on the battlefield as members of the same family. And this leads him to deep questioning. To contemplate and recognize within oneself the sense of existential disorder—the disturbed, or “diseased,” condition of existence—is the initial yoga practice the Gītā offers. The beginning step in serious yoga practice is to recognize in one’s own life a parallel to the predicament in which Arjuna finds himself. This recognition of the urgent need for higher vision qualifies one for acquiring the education in yoga that Arjuna shall receive in the remaining seventeen chapters.
2.The Yoga of Analysis (sāṅkhya-yoga)
Arjuna’s distress drives him to request his dear friend (and cousin) Krishna to set aside the equality of status in their friendship and to assume the role of teacher, as his superior (2.7). Krishna accepts this role and, initially, chides Arjuna for sounding very learned but being ignorant of higher truth. He then proceeds to instruct him in the basic principle of spiritual analysis, namely, to distinguish between the temporal physical and mental body on the one side, and the atemporal, nonphysical and supermental self on the other side. To make this distinction, Krishna provides analogies from common experience, such as this one (2.22): as one takes off old and worn clothes and dresses in new clothes, similarly, the atemporal self abandons the temporal body when it no longer functions, accepting a new temporal body (which is generally born into another family from that of the previous body).
Based on this understanding, Krishna argues that Arjuna need not be in anxiety about the imminent death of the warriors he now faces. Rather, even if they are killed, they—the selves in those warrior bodies—will in fact not die, for the self—all living selves—are indestructible. And since a warrior in a righteous battle is awarded residence in heavenly realms if his body is killed, there is nothing to worry about. On the other hand (and this is a curious but significant “twist” in Krishna’s reasoning), even if not persuaded on the basis of the self’s atemporality, Arjuna should nonetheless fight in this battle out of concern for his own reputation as a warrior. If he withdraws from the battlefield, he will be scorned by other warriors, and this would be a fate worse than death (2.34-36)!
Krishna does not press this point about reputation any further in the Gītā; rather, he proceeds immediately to provide a summary of yoga practice by which one may realize through immediate experience the truth of the self as distinct from the body. Krishna names this yoga practice “buddhi-yoga”—the yoga of discernment (2.39). A word that Krishna uses several times in this section of Chapter 2—buddhi—suggests awakening and alertness. By developing alertness in discriminating between what is temporary (especially one’s own body and the particulars of mental activity) and what is not temporary (the essential principle of life, the self, jīva or ātman), the first important accomplishment of yoga practice is attained. This attainment is freedom from the dictations and demands of the mind, by which one is constantly disturbed amidst the fluctuations of life: feelings of happiness and distress, and the experience of being honored or dishonored, are typical of such disturbing fluctuations.
Together with such freedom of mind comes freedom from the dictations of the senses. Here, Krishna describes an accomplished yogī—one who practices yoga—as one who is “standing in wisdom” (sthita-prajña). Again, a striking analogy is given to help understand the state of consciousness of such a person (2.70): “Just as water constantly pours (from rivers) into the undisturbed ocean, similarly all kinds of desires may enter into a person (who is adept in yoga). The yogī attains peace; not one who pursues desires.” In other words, the accomplished practitioner does not identify himself or herself with the constant streams of desires, knowing that desires are nothing but longings of the senses to enjoy temporary pleasures through sense objects, or longings of the mind to enjoy temporary pleasures through thoughts pleasing to the mind.
Chapter 2 sets forth the most essential principles of understanding upon which yoga as a whole is based. The key principle of yoga in this chapter is “analysis” (sāṅkhya) by which one learns to deeply question the received wisdom of the world. The received, conventional “wisdom” is that one must identify with one’s physical body and mind to achieve a successful, happy life. In fact, says Krishna, the exact opposite is true. And buddhi-yoga serves to foster direct experience of the truth of one’s nontemporal identity by enabling one to rise above the temporary, ever-distracting dualities of this world.