‘Now, the practice of yoga begins’: Reflections on Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra 1.1

‘Atha yoganusasanam’ which translates as ‘Now, the practice of yoga begins’ is the first of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. Reading the book - a collection of pithy aphorisms explaining what yoga is -  often felt like a string of shiny pearls was slipping through my fingers. In places, certain sutras sounded cryptic, esoteric, almost incomprehensible. Their meaning eluded me. But there were also sections of clarity, inspiration and refuge. Sutras that  sounded familiar, universal. Teachings I aspired to inhabit. Each sutra is so thoughtfully and masterfully weaved into the next, like antique lace work.  

‘Atha’ may sound like a simple instruction but it’s probably one of the deepest insights of spiritual practice: to bring yourself back into the present moment. By beginning the whole book with the word Now, Patanjali firmly grounds the practice of yoga into the present tense, making it relevant to every human being who happens to come across it. The Yoga Sutras cannot be read as a fairy tale - the practice of yoga didn’t happen once upon a time - or as a science fiction novel - the practice of yoga will not happen in a million years in a galaxy far far away. Yoga Anushasanam is happening Now and it’s about the life you, as the reader, are living right in this very instant. Atha is a call to attention! 

I recall that ‘Attention’ is the word with which Aldous Huxley opens his final novel ‘Island’ - the utopian counterpart of his dystopian novel ‘Brave New World’. I find my tattered old copy at the back of the bookshelf, page 39 is heavily underlined (please do not judge): 

‘Being Good is in the knowledge of who in fact one is in relation to all experiences; so be aware - aware in every context, at all times and whatever, creditable or discreditable, pleasant or unpleasant, you may be doing or suffering. This is the only genuine yoga, the only spiritual exercise worth practising.’

I feel the above passage serves as an apt interpretation of Sutra 1.1 ( I am also convinced that Huxley must have been a Patanjali fan). The opening line of the Yoga Sutras is, indeed, an invitation to live a deeply examined life. An open invitation, as a matter of fact. The practice of yoga is available to anyone who is willing to take the leap. You can practise regardless of who you are or where you are in your journey. Yoga is an inclusive practice that helps us cultivate a willingness to be with what is through curiosity and compassion. Patanjali, like the Buddha before him, teaches us to not dwell in the past and to not lose ourselves in the future. ‘The past no longer is. The future has not yet come’. 

The word Atha may carry an imperative tone but I don’t think it should be read as a command. My interpretation of the word is that of a kind gesture - Now, like a soft-hearted giant, has the power to push the door open to the infinite. It offers the reader the opportunity to discover herself and by discovering herself she may glimpse the grandeur of the divine in her deepest undivided self. Like the birds in Farid ud-Din Attar’s story that had to fly through valleys of hardship before reaching the palace of King Simorgh and upon entering they only find a mirror: 

‘There in the Simorgh’s radiant face they saw

Themselves the Simorgh of the world - with awe

They gazed, and dared at last to comprehend

They were the Simorgh and the journey’s end.’

Patanjali’s opening sutra is sensitive and understanding to the human condition. He knows that humans are easily distracted, oscillating frantically between their memory lands and their fantasy worlds. He knows that our pwerful capacity for consciousness is both a blessing and a curse. Like a forgiving mother, Patanjali’s first sutra calls us back home after a day’s frenzied adventures. Never is too late and nothing is lost for every time we read or utter the word Atha we can start again, we can start anew. Atha, like a loved one’s embrace welcomes us back, regardless of where we have been, regardless of what we have done. ‘Come’, as the Divine pleads with Rumi, ‘even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come’. Every time we arrive in the present tense we are evolving our practice. Every single moment of full awareness, like Patanjali’s sutras, is being weaved into our own spiritual tapestry. Each one of us, the beholder of her unique design.  

Atha is so simple a word to hold on and it lends itself so easily to being chanted. The last few days I’ve been using it as a mantra on and off the yoga mat.  The more I use it the easier it becomes to find the space and the time to yoke the body and the mind. Atha will become the tinder and kindling for stoking up my self-practice, my discipline, my faith. I may never reach the state of absolute liberation but in the process I am hoping to cultivate what one of my yoga teachers calls ‘universal empathy’ and remember that me, you and the entire world surrounding us are all one, we are all love.