Class One: Yoga is Action **1) What is the single most important question raised by the Bhagavad Gita, and how is it reflected in the circumstances under which the work was originally taught? As we begin Part II of our study of the text, entering at the opening lines of the 5^th of the 18 chapters, what meanings do we seen given to the Sanskrit expressions sannyasa and karma yoga, and how is an apparent contradiction between them to be resolved? What, finally, are some parts of the first Sanskrit term; how is it clarified by the Tibetan equivalent; and what are some cognates, or related words, from English?** The text of the Bhagavad Gita is of course a reported discussion between Arjuna and Lord Krishna, as the mighty bowman Arjuna leads one army to oppose another composed by his own teachers and close relatives. Daunted by the prospect of having to kill those who are most dear to him, Arjuna has asked the driver of his chariot—who is in fact the divine being Krishna—to bring the chariot between the lines of battle already drawn up, with the slaughter imminent. In the chariot Arjuna begins to question the action he is now being called on to take, which becomes a larger discussion of the meaning of all actions that all people take. As we begin the second part of our study of the text here in the opening sections of Chapter Five, Lord Krishna makes the confusing statement that “both giving up action and following the yoga of action can lead us to ultimate good.” And then he confuses things more by saying that “the yoga of action is vastly superior to not acting.” Here’s how this confusion is resolved. By “giving up action,” Lord Krishna is referring to the Sanskrit word *sannyasa.* The meaning of this term here is best described by referring to the Tibetan, which is *ja-pang* {BYA SPANGS,}. *Ja* means *activity,* and *pang* means *to give up.* The combination of the two is most often used to mean *someone who has given up a lot or worldly activity;* that is, a hermit or retreatant. This kind of quiet living, and also doing formal spiritual retreats, is a necessary preliminary to reaching the state of silence in which we can perceive higher spiritual truths. As such it “leads us,” as Lord Krishna puts it, “to ultimate good.” The phrase “ultimate good” here, by the way, is a common technical term in ancient Sanskrit used to refer to the dual goals of nirvana (removing ones negative emotions forever) and enlightenment (the additional ability to see all things in all time, and to emanate countless angelic bodies to help all living beings). We need the kind of quiet that we find in reducing our worldly activities in order to understand what “true” action is. This undertaking of “true” action is superior, says Lord Krishna, to the quiet state that we need to understand what makes an action true. Normally we grossly misunderstand how undertaking an action relates to the goal we hope to reach through the action. For example, we might undertake the practice of the physical poses of yoga, in order to become light and strong. What we don’t realize, however, is that the yoga itself is “blank,” in the sense that it could either help us or actually cause us injury. The action of doing yoga poses itself then is obviously not what makes us light or strong. That is accomplished by actions such as helping the sick. If we help those who are sick and *then* undertake the practice of yoga, then this becomes a “true” action, in the sense that it brings us the result we hope for. Undertaking *this kind of action* then is vastly superior to the relative inactivity which is undertaken to make our minds quiet enough to understand “true” action. Nonetheless we would obviously seek both to support each other in the search for enlightened action. The Sanskrit word *sannyasa* has three parts: *sam, ni, and as.* The *sam (sam)* means *altogether* or *completely;* it came into English as *com-,* as we see this prefix in the words *community* or *completely.* The *ni (ni)* means *down,* as we see it in the English word *nether* (lower). *As (as)* comes from the root √*as (as),* meaning *to be* or *to sit.* We see this root for example in the word *asana,* or *yoga pose,* which originally referred to exercises done for the purpose of strengthening meditative sitting. The whole word together then means *to sit down completely,* meaning, as the Tibetan reflects, to *give up worldly activity.* It of course also refers to the stage of life in which a person in India would retire in their golden years to the forest in order to devote themselves to spiritual pursuits. **2) How does Lord Krishna, in the fifth chapter of the Gita, describe a real renunciate? How can this description easily be misunderstood? What is the key Sanskrit word here; how does it break down; and what are some English cognates?** Lord Krishna describes a “real” renunciate to Arjuna as someone who has “given up pairs such as liking and disliking.” This advice is often misconstrued as meaning we should never engage in liking or disliking, or for example in any other “pair” of choices such as looking for a potential partner on the web, or in a yoga class. First of all, this is not advice that all liking and all disliking are wrong, with the implication of this being to say that we should just be neutral about everything around us. We are not though for example meant to like pain ourselves, or to see others in pain: it’s okay to *dislike* seeing people in pain. And it’s okay to *like* to see people happy, and to be happy ourselves. Rather, Lord Krishna is warning us away from false choices: false distinctions, false choices. In the case of liking and disliking, we are to realize that all the events and people that we encounter—whether we like them or dislike them—are in actuality coming from how we ourselves have treated others. It doesn’t do any good then to dislike irritating people that we meet, or to like fame for example so much that we would injure others to get it. When somebody does something to us that we don’t like, we *should* dislike it, and go about getting rid of it by examining ourselves to see if we are doing the same to anyone else, and thereby planting seeds to see it come to ourselves. If we do like something (assuming it’s wholesome), then we *should* go about getting it, by planting the seeds for it by providing it to someone else who wants it. These then are *intelligent* forms of liking and disliking. In the example of looking for a partner, Lord Krishna is advising us not to get caught up in false choices. We know from experience that going on the internet, or going to a yoga class, may or may not help us find a partner. Neither action then is “true”; neither really works, since neither works all the time. Rather, we need to go to the cause below the cause: we need for example to help and serve the lonely—such as the elderly—which will plant seeds within us to find a partner whether we go on the web or to a yoga class. We are freed then from having to make this choice, and from all the effort and mental anxiety such choices necessarily entail; as Lord Krishna puts it, we are “freed from our chains.” The key Sanskrit word here is *dvandva,* which means *pair* or *duality.* It literally means “two-two.” The Sanskrit word *dva (dva)* means *two,* and is seen in the English word *two* itself, as well as the *dual.* **3) Still in the fifth chapter of the Gita, Lord Krishna berates “children” for saying that “yoga and philosophy are two separate things.” Explain why he says so, and describe the significance of the word “child” here, with reference to the Sanskrit and a common yoga term which is related. What Sanskrit word is used here for “philosophy,” and what is a more common, specialized meaning of it?** Lord Krishna in the fourth verse of the fifth chapter is addressing the classical question of whether it is better to undertake a formal course of study, or simply devote ourselves to the practice of physical yoga and related work with the inner body, in order to reach our enlightenment for the sake of all living beings. He answers the question of course with the advice that study and yoga are no separate things: each one supports the other. If we do our physical work with our outer and inner body through yoga asana and related practices, this opens up our chakras and inner channels so that we can much more easily have direct realizations of high spiritual truths. If at the same time we study the nature of the inner body, and the meaning of high spiritual truths such as emptiness and compassion, then—since the inner winds and our thoughts ride in tandem—we can much more easily open the inner body for high realizations. Thus Lord Krishna can make the statement that each of these two paths leads to the fruits of both. Lord Krishna describes those who think that they have to make a choice between these two methods as “children.” This is a common expression in ancient Indian literature to refer to someone who is, as we would put it, “like a two-year-old” in the maturity of their spiritual understanding. In Buddhism, the same word is a technical term to describe someone who has not yet seen emptiness directly. The Tibetan here is *jipa* {BYIS PA,}, which literally refers to an infant still in their mother’s arms. The corresponding Sanskrit is *bala* (*ba#la*), which we see in yoga with *balasana,* or *child’s pose.* The Sanskrit word used here for *philosophy* is *sankhya,* which means *those who deal in numbers.* This is a reference to the more restricted meaning of the term, which is the Sankhya school of ancient Indian philosophy. They were so called because they said that all existing things can be *enumerated* into 25 different categories. Here in this verse though the word is being used more generally to refer to anyone who goes about their spiritual quest more by utilizing formal philosophical studies. **4) Also in the fifth chapter of the Gita, Lord Krishna states that “those who understand suchness properly think to themselves” that there is “nothing that they are doing,” even when they are obviously engaged in experiencing things, or simply in the common activities of everyday life such as eating or walking. How are we to understand this confusing statement, and how does it connect to the famous advice that Lord Krishna gives Arjuna not to be attached to the fruits of his actions? Be sure in your answer to explain the meaning of the word “suchness,” and to break down the two parts of the Sanskrit expression for “those who understand suchness,” giving English cognates and the corresponding Tibetan.** First of all, the word *suchness* refers to the ultimate nature of things, which is also known as *emptiness.* This doesn’t refer to everything being nothing—a black hole, or to thinking about nothing, or to thinking that everything is illusory so it doesn’t matter what we do. Rather, it means that all people and events are devoid or empty of happening just from their own side; meaning that they are not what they seem: they are, rather, happening because of seeds we ourselves have put in our own minds by how well we treat others. Suppose that we understand this principle. As we go through our day, we are constantly aware then that people and things are coming from us. This applies as well to every action we ever undertake in the day, to get anything at all that we want to happen. We come to understand that whether or not the actions we undertake actually end up doing what we hope they will is not really up to any present effort. Rather, the degree to which we have taken care of others in the past will determine whether any action we take now will work. In a sense then we are not doing anything *now* which will affect what happens now: and so, as Lord Krishna has put it, “there is nothing at all which we do.” This of course applies to Lord Krishna’s famous advice to Arjuna that he not be attached to the fruits of his actions. This doesn’t mean—as it is often thought to mean—that we should never hope that our actions bear the fruits we hope they will, or for example that something good will happen to us also if we are good to others. These are not a problem at all: we *should* be happy to help others, and we should have an honest appreciation of the inevitability that whatever we do good for others will come back to us as good and happiness. Rather, we should always be aware that the *present* success of our actions is not due to our present efforts or motivation. The result that we see from an action in the present is in fact *not* a result of that action; rather, it is a result of a seed we have planted in our mind from undertaking some action prior to the present one. And then we won’t get “attached” to the “fruits” of our present actions in the sense of being disappointed when a good action undertaken with a good motivation appears to have a bad result, when in fact it can only lead to good, at a later time, when the seed we have planted sprouts. The Sanskrit for “those who understand suchness” is *tattvavid. Tattva (tattva)* is the Sanskrit for *that-ness* or *such-ness,* where *tat* means *that* (and is the source of this word) and *va* represents the *–ness. Vid* comes from the root √*vid (vid),* and of course means *to know,* or *to see.* From this we get the English words *video* and *wisdom,* for example. The corresponding Tibetan is the very famous *de kona nyi kyenpa* {DE KHO NA NYID MKHYEN PA,}, where *de kona nyi* is *suchness* and *kyenpa* is *understanding.* **5) Why does Lord Krishna, still in the fifth chapter of the Gita, make the surprising statement that “The Lord of the Universe accepts neither good nor bad deeds”? Wouldn’t the divine (who in this case is of course Lord Krishna himself) be pleased that we did good deeds, and accept them heartily?** It’s not surprising of course that the Divine Force, whatever we take it to be, would refuse to accept or be pleased by the harmful or negative deeds which we do towards others and ourselves. The point though that Lord Krishna is making here—especially given that in the same verse he goes on to say that “understanding is smothered by misunderstanding”—is that even the good deeds that a normal person tries to do are done with misunderstanding. This is the same point that we’ve been following all along in this chapter, and relates to the reasons that we do our good deeds. Most of us have some trouble doing truly generous good deeds towards others—we often simply want them to feel obliged to us, we want something from those whom we help, even if it’s only recognition. We also simply misunderstand the dynamics of a good deed. We try to help someone and they hurt us back—or else what we do ends up hurting both them and us—and then we get discouraged and think that good deeds don’t work to bring good results. This then inhibits us from being kind and generous to others. These perceptions though are born, as Lord Krishna says, from ignorance. If we perform a good deed with proper understanding, then we already realize that it is completely impossible for a good deed not to have a good result for both ourselves and others. If for example we speak kindly to a person and then they respond to us by speaking unkindly, a person with understanding realizes that two chains of events are in fact going on here. When the other person responds to us unkindly, this can only be because we have spoken unkindly to someone else in the past—and it could have been a much *smaller* unkind word, because the results of mental seeds are just as greater than the seed which caused them, as the results of acorns are greater than the original acorns. At the same time, we try to stay aware that our attempt to speak kindly to the other person can *only* result in many future events where others speak kindly to us. The current response then has in fact *no causal connection* to our current action of speaking kindly. Good deeds done without this knowledge have a marked tendency to wear out relatively quickly; in Buddhism, they are thus even referred to as “dirty” or “impure” good deeds. When we do perform a good deed rather with understanding, then the very fact of our understanding tends to strengthen and sustain the result of the deed, since we are more likely to continue acting kindly if we fully understand how effective it invariably is. **6) Lord Krishna makes another astounding remark in the fifth chapter of the Gita that the wise see priests (that is, Brahmins, or the highest caste in traditional Indian society) and untouchables (the lowest caste) as being completely equal in “their knowledge and nobility.” How does a similar statement in the teachings of the Diamond Angel, Vajra Yogini, help clarify the meaning of this one?** A very similar and very famous verse from the teachings of the Diamond Angel says the following: *Revel in the nature* *Where holy men* *And butchers, pigs and dogs* *Are all the same.* The traditional explanation of this verse helps us understand Lord Krishna’s statement. In both cases, the author of the verse is taking great pains to choose a case where there really *does* exist an infinitely big difference between the examples listed. In the case of the Gita quotation, members of the priestly or Brahmin caste have always been considered throughout India to be practically divine. Dogs though, and “those who eat them” (a reference to the untouchable caste, or *shudra* caste) are considered filthy, spiritually profane—as are those who take the lives of animals for food, butchers: the lowest of the lowest of castes. Cows of course are considered holy in India, and elephants are considered the most noble and powerful of beasts, employed exclusively by royalty in their work and war. To say that they too are equal to dogs is something like saying that a Ferrari sportscar is the same as a Volkswagen bug. Lord Krishna must have something else in mind. This is not just the simple statement of equality that all living beings are to be loved as equally precious, although of course that is true as well. The point is, rather, that the ultimate nature of each of these beings is the same—which also implies that the deepest seed of enlightenment within them is also the same. That is, when a Brahmin sees themselves as a Brahmin, or an untouchable sees themselves as an untouchable—or a dog or an elephant sees themselves in the way that they do—it is always coming from the same cause, and equally *not* coming from *nothing.* That is, our very hands for example exist at the end of our arms because we are forced to perceive them as hands due to a seed opening deep within our minds—a seed planted, typically, by some kindness where we reached out to help others. A dog as well is perceiving a paw at the end of their leg because of a failure to reach out in the past to help others (assuming that they are living in a society where they are considered unclean and are constantly tormented by everyone around them, as is the case in India). The dog is quite certainly different in their social level than a Brahmin priest with hands, but both are completely the same in that how they perceive themselves is coming from how well or badly they have treated others in the past. All of us, good or bad, rich or poor, high or low, are the same in that we have created ourselves and our world by how we have treated others in the past. And we are equally devoid of being different for any other reason. *Coffeeshop assignment:* Please meet with one other member of the class (preferably someone you didn’t know before the course started) to talk a bit about this class, before the next one—and to collaborate on filling out your homework. *Meditation assignment:* 15 minutes per day, choose any action that you took in the last 24 hours; examine what you hoped to accomplish through that action, and whether this hope took into consideration the fact that the outcome of the action was solely dependent upon your past mental seeds. *Meditation times and dates* (homework without this section completed will not be accepted):