**1) In the next section of the Yoga Sutra, Master Patanjali says that we can achieve the goal of yoga—the cessation or stopping of how the mind wrongly turns things around—through “constant practice, and giving up our attachments.” Then he goes on to describe three elements that we need for this constant practice. Name them (in English).** (a) Our constant practice—which is really what prepares us for the first path or first level of our spiritual evolution—must be carefully *cultivated.* As His Holiness the Dalai Lama often notes, this cultivation first requires an extensive period of time: we cannot expect instant results. Gardening in the mind requires as much, or more, time than gardening in the soil. (b) The practice must be steady, without gaps. A *regular* and *daily* practice, even if it is relatively brief, is the only one that will work. (c) The practice must be done correctly, in exact accordance with methods that high beings in the past have successfully used to bring about ultimate spiritual goals. A practice done over a long period of time, without gaps, will have no successful results if it is simply *mistaken* or ineffective in the first place. As the Tibetan Lamas say, “You can churn water for a hundred years and not get any butter out of it.” **2) And what about this idea of “giving up attachments”? Is it *wrong* to want or to be attached to nice things?** It is not wrong to want nice things, or to be attached to them in a healthy way. There is nothing wrong with a nice cup of cocoa, or the lovely face of a child or a sunset. Certainly the mandala or enlightened paradise which we all seek to create with our yoga practice will be filled with lovely and beautiful experiences. Buddhas, enlightened beings, certainly *want* to see us freed from all of our pain; they are *quite attached* to the idea of seeing us reach ultimate happiness. And no matter what anyone may say to the opposite, every one of us seeks—from the moment we step out of bed in the morning—to get what we want, and be happy. The practice of yoga is not meant to convince us somehow that *we shouldn’t want anything;* rather, it is a practice to attain everything we could ever wish for, and more, through ways which at the same time also lead to the temporary and ultimate benefit of every other living being. To state it in a negative way, wanting or being attached is fine, *unless it ever involves hurting another being.* **3) What are some kinds of attachment that, based on Master Patanjali’s own words, we might want to give up?** We can and should attain all the pleasures and happiness that our heart tells us are ultimately possible. This may involve rejecting lesser pleasures that create in us a distracted state of mind: what Master Shantideva calls “our craving for experiences.” At the most basic level, this craving would be—for example—wasting our time with newspapers or magazines or small talk with other people, because we resist going to the silence and deeper part of our mind, which is the only place where we can find the ultimate form of freedom from attachment. **4) Give the Sanskrit words here for “constant practice” and “giving up attachments.” In each case, give the Sanskrit root, and several English cognates.** The Sanskrit for “constant practice” is *abhyasa* A\_yas*,* which consists of the prefix *abhi* AiÉ or “very much,” and the root √*as* As\!*,* meaning “to be.” *Abhi* appears in English as *epi* as in “epicenter,” or *apo* as in “apogee.” *As* appears in “is” and “essence,” as well as in the Sanskrit word *asana,* which means “seat” or “yoga pose.” The Sanskrit for “giving up attachments” is *vairagya* vEraGy*,* composed of the prefix *vi* iv*,* meaning “split away from,” and the root *√raj* rj\!*,* “to color” or “to be passionate.” *Vi* is found in the words “divide” and “two” (“bi-cycle”)—the result of splitting. *Raj* is found in the Indian word for a passionate song—*raga*—and in English words like “rage” or “orange,” referring to the crimson color of rage or passion. **5) Name and describe the first of the five paths, or levels of our spiritual evolution.** The first of the five paths is called the Path of Accumulation. You have reached this path when your daily practice has brought you to a level of pure sadness about this life, and a desire to find freedom from the pattern of decay and loss of everything we hold dear. The path is known as “accumulation” since you are accumulating the good karma needed to see ultimate reality directly, and to attain enlightenment. **6) How does Master Patanjali describe the ultimate form of freedom from attachment, and why does he bring it up at this point?** He says that the ultimate form of freedom from attachment is to escape from our attachment to “solid things”—which refers to things that we perceive as coming from their own side, and not from our own minds due to our karmic seeds. Here he is leading our thoughts towards the second of the five paths: the Path of Preparation, where we begin to get acquainted with ultimate reality in an intellectual way. The path is called “preparation” because it gets us ready for the direct perception of ultimate reality at the third path, the Path of Seeing. **7) In this same section of the chapter, Master Patanjali talks about unveiling the “true nature of the person.” How does this relate to the practice of yoga?** The true nature of the person—that is, the ultimate nature or emptiness of each one of us—is that our very body and mind is not something which exists from its own side, but which is rather coming from our side: it is a result of our own perceptions, forced upon us by how we have taken care of others in the past. If we can come to see the truth of this fact, then we can use the inner and outer methods of yoga to gain its intended result: the transformation of body and mind into a divine being who can serve all people in all worlds, in any given moment. **8) Name and describe four general levels of meditation mentioned here by Master Patanjali, and then explain why they are “only like an axe.”** (a) “Noting” is the first level of meditation, where we are focused upon the object of a meditation as a whole. We can compare it to the first few moments of listening to a favorite song played in a store—we are first recognizing it. (b) “Examining” is the second level, where we are able to go deeper, into details of the object of meditation. This can be compared to an appreciation of specific lyrics and lines of melody in a song. (c) “Deep pleasure” is the third level, where we begin to feel a deep sense of contentment in meditation. This compares to going deeply into the feeling of a song, the feeling of contentment where we are simply deeply enjoying the song and no longer really aware of the lyrics or lines of melody. (d) “Being in oneself” is the fourth level, where you are oblivious to everything else, and are so deep into the music that you have forgotten yourself completely. It is sort of an absorbed numbness which is even beyond pleasure—something you can also feel when you go even deeper into a song. All these stages of meditation though are only a tool—like an axe that you use to cut down a tree. The Master is warning us in this section that we must not become “stuck” in the pleasant feeling of meditation, but rather use it to find ultimate truth, and apply it to getting ourselves and others out of suffering. **9) Relate Katrin’s example of the young man and the beautiful singer.** A young man hears a lovely young girl sing a song during a theatrical performance. Walking down a street the next day, he hears the same song emanating from behind the shutters of a window. He is transported by the song, and passes through the four levels mentioned above. Finally he thrusts his head in between the shutters, only to be greeted by a fist. It turns out that the young maiden on stage was only mouthing the words of the song, which was sung by a buxom, middle-aged matron standing out of sight behind the back curtain. The matron’s husband has just punched the enamored young man. This is a comment upon the dangers of being attached to the form rather than content of meditation. It is also a description about how—although we may have a correct perception about the *object* of a meditation (that the song the young man hears through the window is in fact the song that he heard before)—we can still be completely wrong about *the true nature of the object* (that is, believing that the song is coming from a completely different place than it really is)*.* And this mistake, in every hour of our lives, leads to all the pain of humankind. **10) Why does the Master speak here about certain kinds of meditation “leading to the realm of form”?** It is said that our world is actually composed of three different, distinct realms, each with its own creatures. This in fact is the meaning of the Sanskrit word *triloka,* or “three worlds.” Everything that we normally ever see is in the lowest realm, the “realm of desire”—so named because of our attraction to objects of the senses, such as food or sex. Above this realm is the “form realm,” a sort of temporary heaven inhabited by beings with gorgeous forms. Beyond that is the “formless” realm, also a temporary, heavenly existence where people are purely mental and have no physical bodies. We can be reborn into these other two realms, it is said, by spending a lot of time in this life in deep meditation with no real spiritual content—partly because we can’t do anything really harmful to others when we are sitting in silence. These realms though are considered a trap, since after a period of pleasure there we use up all of our good karma and pass to lower realms of pain. Whether a person believes in rebirth or not, this verse still serves as a warning that uninformed meditation can only help us in a very temporary way; and that being “good” in an uneducated way still cannot help us with the much more serious question of where death and the pain in the world come from, and how to stop them.