by Rolf Sovik
The nostril used to begin the practice is commonly determined by the time of day. The maxim “right at night” (and therefore left in the morning) is an easy way to remember. Begin your evening practice on the right side. In the morning, begin with the left nostril. If you practice at midday, begin by exhaling through the nostril that is less open (the passive nostril). If the nostrils are flowing equally, which is less common than you might expect, you may start on either side.
nadi shodhanam breathing patterns
The Technique
• Sit with your head, neck, and trunk erect so that your spine is balanced and steady and you can breathe freely. Gently close your eyes.
• Breathe diaphragmatically. Let each exhalation and inhalation be the same length—smooth, slow, and relaxed. Do not allow the breath to be forced or jerky. Let each breath flow without pause.
• To begin the practice, inhale through both nostrils, then close one nostril and exhale; inhale smoothly and completely through the other. The exhalation and inhalation are of equal length and there is no sense of forcing the breath. Now alternate sides, completing one full breath on the opposite side. Attend to the breath flowing in each nostril just as you have in your breath awareness practices. (Note: There is no retention of breath in this version of the practice.)
• Continue alternating between the nostrils until you have completed a full round of the practice (three breaths on each side, for a total of six breaths). Then lower your hand and breathe gently and smoothly three times through both nostrils. For a deeper practice, complete two more rounds. (Note: When practicing three rounds in one sitting, the second of the three rounds begins on the opposite nostril, and the pattern of alternation is therefore the reverse of rounds one and three.)
Nadi shodhanam may become one of the most profoundly relaxing and centering techniques in your yoga routine. As the breath moves out and in through each nostril, it provides a quieting focus. Your nervous system will be deeply calmed, and your mind turned inward and steadied for concentration. If you like, you can then turn to the next phase of the journey inward—attention to the energy flowing along the central core of the spine.
HINTS and CAUTIONS
Nadi shodhanam is in many ways the most important of all pranayama practices. It should be done twice a day—usually morning and evening. The general guidelines for all yoga practices apply: practice on a light stomach, empty the bladder beforehand, and stay within your comfortable capacity. When channel purification forms part of a complete yoga practice session, it is done just after asanas and prior to meditation.
Do not practice channel purification if you are tired and cannot concentrate. Don’t practice when you have a severe headache, when you are overly restless and agitated (get some rest), or during periods of fever. People with a seizure disorder should not practice alternate nostril breathing. If noises in the head develop, discontinue the practice.
A Calm Center
Like the eye of a hurricane, sushumna, the channel of energy flowing in the core of the spine, is said to be unaffected by the powerful energies of ida and pingala swirling around it. Sushumna is the center of the wheel of life. During meditation, the mind rests from its outer activity and is naturally drawn toward this central channel of energy. With attention anchored in it, an experience of deep joy illumines the mind.
Following meditation practice, attention turns outward again and an active interest in worldly affairs is restored, often with more enthusiasm than before. The charm of the meditative experience is that it continues to create a subtle mood of happiness and contentment, much like the joy of having witnessed a beautiful sunrise or sunset. This memory infuses consciousness with reassurance, optimism, and good cheer.
The Meaning of Sushumna
The word sushumna can be divided into three parts, although to an English speaker, they hardly look meaningful. The division is: susu-mna. “Wait a minute,” you may say, “the spelling of the second su is changed, and mna seems rather peculiar, too.” Well, you’re right. Su is a prefix that often changes to shu. It means “good, beautiful, virtuous, sweet, and well” (and it is found in the English word “sugar”). Mna is an infrequently used verb root with the same meaning as its more common root form, man, which means “to think.”
When su and mna are joined (shumna—”good thoughts”), the result is translated as “kind or gracious”—at least that’s what can be found in Sanskrit dictionaries. Doubling the prefix (su-shumna) conveys these qualities in the superlative. We might say, “very kind or very gracious.”
Yoga adepts, however, give us an alternative meaning. They explain that sushumna also can be interpreted as “sukha-mana”—that is, joyful (sukha) mind (mana). In this new compound, the first word, sukha, which is normally translated as happy or joyful, also contains the prefix su—this time added to the short noun kha. Among the many definitions for kha (which is generally related to the concept of space) is the meaning “the space at the center of a wheel.” The implication of su-kha, then, is that at the center of any wheel is a place of balance and tranquility. Thus, sukha means “well-centered, running smoothly” or, more commonly, “happy” and “joyful.” It reminds us that there is a hub at the center of every human life that is the source of inner delight.
Establishing Sushumna
We have seen that variations in nostril dominance are expected and welcome in everyday life, but that meditation practice is enhanced when the two nostrils flow equally. We can help this take place by concentrating on the stream of energy flowing at the nose. Adepts have called this process “establishing sushumna,” and when it is accomplished, attention moves inward along a central channel leading from the base of the nose to the center between the eyebrows and down along the spine.
Ideally, when sushumna is established, the two nostrils will follow the lead of the mind and begin to flow equally, but this is often difficult to achieve in practice. One nostril may feel plugged and be unwilling to open. The other may stream open with no hint of moderating its activity. Does this mean that our practice is doomed to failure? It is good to remember that establishing sushumna has as much to do with the ability to remain focused on the sensation of breath as with actual changes in nostril dominance. When attention is firmly rested in the central stream of energy along the nose bridge, meditation will naturally deepen. It would be helpful if the two nostrils were to flow equally, but the act of focusing attention is the primary ingredient of this practice.
A Beginning Practice
• Sit erect with your eyes closed. Breathe five to ten times as if your whole body breathes. Feel the cleansing and nourishing sensations of each breath. Practice one or more rounds of nadi shodhanam if you like.
• Now bring your attention to the touch of breath in the active nostril. Focus on the breath as if it is flowing only through the active side. Maintain your attention there until it has become steady and you can feel the breath without interruption. Let your thoughts come and go without giving them energy or attention. Simply maintain your focus on the breath in the active nostril, letting your nervous system relax.
• Next, bring your attention to the breath in the passive nostril. Again feel the flow of the breath until you can maintain your focus without interruption. Remain here longer than on the active side. By maintaining the focus, the nostril may open.
• Finally, mentally merge these two streams into one single, central stream. Inhaling, breathe as if the breath flows from the base of the nostrils inward to the point between the eyebrows (the ajna chakra). Exhaling, let the breath flow from the ajna chakra back to the base of the nostrils. Breathe back and forth along this central stream as you gradually relax your mind.
• Sit as long as you like, resting your attention on the flow of the breath. Relax your body, breathing, and mind.
In the End
The breath is a vehicle for deepening concentration and revealing quiet sources of joy. Two techniques that can have far-reaching effects are nadi
shodhanam and sushumna breathing. In these practices, the two great modes of energy within the body/mind are coordinated, and attention is focused on the central stream of the breath. By sustaining awareness on this central stream, a process of transformation begins, leading to a steady and tranquil mind.
Meditation and Mantra
Meditation and Mantra
In the final stage of meditation, awareness is focused on a thought, a mantra. This is a refinement of enormous significance, for it places the object of concentration within the mind itself. It brings each aspect of mental functioning into close view and creates a center in which even the subtlest energies of the mind may be rested.
Three overarching processes shape this stage of meditation: concentration, non-attachment, and mindfulness. These, together with an exploration of the primary functions of the mind, are the subjects of “Meet Your Self: The Mind in Meditation.” In this chapter, you will also learn more about specific mantras used for meditation.
Next is an overview of the meditative process—“A Complete Meditation Practice.” The chapter begins with a brief explanation of how to focus attention at the eyebrow center, the ajna chakra. Then it presents a practical outline of meditation, from sitting to concentration with a mantra.
“String of Pearls: Using a Mala” illustrates how a string of beads, a mala, can help deepen meditation. Even those who are initially not attracted to using a mala often discover that it is a satisfying tool for meditation. Finally, for those who wish to develop longer sitting times, the chapter “Motivation for Meditation” shows the way.
Meet Your Self: The Mind in Meditation
Meditation gives you what nothing else
can give you—it introduces you to yourself.
—Swami Rama
The mind is the lens through which we experience the world around us as well as the world within. Because it functions as a source of distress as well as the means for illumination, it is important to learn how to cultivate a mind that embodies cheerfulness, clarity, and well-being. Meditative practices do just this. They calm mental turbulence and reveal a quiet inner joy. Along the way, they nurture feelings of self-acceptance, provide tranquil moments to restore hope and confidence, and brighten a darkened mood.
As we have seen, the process of meditation encompasses a variety of skills. Learning to sit in a comfortable posture, to breathe diaphragmatically, and to relax the nervous system are essential ingredients of meditation. Yet in the end, it is the mind itself that must become the focus of attention, for it is largely the mind that shapes our identity and destiny. To help us work with the mind, yoga provides an intriguing analysis of mental functioning as well as a methodical system of meditation. Let’s see what this might mean.
Functions of Mind
If you sit quietly in a comfortable chair and close your eyes, you will soon begin to have experiences unlike those you were having moments earlier. With eyes closed and senses withdrawn, the shifting terrain of inner life, a landscape visible only to you, will gradually be revealed. If you could maintain something of a neutral vantage point from which to observe this changing inner world, you might be surprised by the way in which it refashions itself from moment to moment. Each image or thought claims your attention; each has its own relevance and importance.
The surface of the mind, the screen on which this inner drama is registered and brought to awareness, is called the manas, the lower mind. It is this aspect of the mind that coordinates sensory impressions and engages in everyday thought and imagination. But while this aspect of the mind readily brings awareness to inner events, it is incapable of judging their value. For this reason, it is described as “always in doubt,” a light capable of illumining the things that come before it, but unable to assess their value.
The capacity to assign value to experience is supplied by a second function of mind, termed the buddhi. While this word is often translated as “intellect,” the translation is easily misunderstood. It is not meant to imply someone who is overly intellectual. Ultimately, the buddhi is the source of understanding and wisdom. When a decision must be made or when the value of experience is to be weighed, it is the buddhi that is summoned. It is thus often termed “the higher mind.”
As we will see later, it is the buddhi that is awakened in meditation. The silent witness of experience, it mirrors in the individual mind the underlying presence of pure awareness. Thus it is the buddhi that serves as the gateway to the realization of consciousness.
There is yet a third aspect of mental functioning, one that provides us with the sense of personal identity. This is the ahamkara, the “I-maker.” It is the function of mind that individualizes experience, differentiating one being from another and supplying the feeling of separateness that distinguishes each of us.
These three—manas, buddhi, and ahamkara—are each conscious aspects of psychological functioning. But with eyes closed and senses quieted, a fourth dimension of mind emerges as well. This is the chitta, the unconscious mind, which acts as the storehouse of latent thoughts, habit patterns, desires, and emotions. The contents of the unconscious are not readily available to the conscious mind; nonetheless, they are active in shaping how we see the world. In the words of a poet, “We do not see the world as it is, but as we are.” Well-rehearsed patterns of thinking and ways of attending to the world, stored in the unconscious mind, influence what we choose to see and what we choose not to see. Our world is largely the world we have become patterned to know.
During meditation, unconscious energies are roused to awareness. The thoughts and images that result are automatic thoughts—thoughts incited by unconscious energy. Often we become identified with them and are unable to distance ourselves from them. At such times, we are the money worries, the missing car keys, the prematurely graying hair that troubles us. We are the automatic reactions to these thoughts as well. And we seem unable to be anything else.
Yet there is an alternative. It begins with the determination to step away from automatic thinking and to witness the stream of thoughts quietly, without reacting. Meditation can help us cultivate an inner resilience, an ability to remain aware and to be present in the here and now, even as our internal milieu stirs itself about. In this way, we can establish a center, a vantage point from which to view the mind and its operations.
In meditation, identification with the contents of the mind is transformed. For while the mind supplies us with an identity that acts as a psychological garment, this garment conceals an even more profound and central identity, one that we can know. Meditation quiets the incessant drives of thinking and doing for a time, replacing them with the simpler, but rarer, experience of being. As we meditate, we are introduced to the silent presence of consciousness, and it is this that lifts us out of automatic habits, comforts pain, and fills us with joy.
Learning to Meditate
Meditation practice is organized systematically. Five coverings or sheaths (koshas) are said to veil the core of our being. They behave like overlapping shades of a lamp, shrouding the light of awareness. In meditation, we travel inward from layer to layer and thus draw nearer to the center of being.
the koshas
The process begins with the body. That is the outermost dimension of the self. By monitoring and observing the body in meditation, we steady our sitting posture and make it comfortable. We notice what it is that calms physical agitation and learn to rest in a sense of stillness. With this, the body serves as a firm foundation for what is to follow.
Next we address the field of energy, or prana, that provides vitality to the body and mind. This field of energy is primarily maintained by the breath. To manage it, we practice breath awareness, gradually shaping the breath and making it deep and effortless. With this, the breath supports our inner work, gradually receding into the background of awareness.
Three sheaths remain, each more refined than the previous one. These three coverings are aspects of the mind, and it is these layers that are the principal f
ocus in meditation. Among them, the outermost is the everyday mind, or manas—the domain of sensation, thinking, and everyday conscious awareness discussed above. Next is the sheath identified with the intellect, the buddhi—the level within us that makes it possible to discern our sense of purpose and to draw upon powers of intuition. Finally, only one sheath remains: asmita. It consists of the merest sense of individual self, a self that is so unencumbered by the denser sheaths that it is experienced as a feeling of bliss.
Within and beyond these sheaths there is said to be a state of pure consciousness. It is consciousness unalloyed—consciousness without an object. That destination calls us through the experiences of each of the five sheaths.
How do we move toward it? Three master strategies open the way: concentration, non-attachment, and mindfulness.
Concentration
At first hearing, the idea that success in meditation relies on concentration can be disheartening. Most of us have not only been frustrated at some time or another by the labors of concentration, but have also found it dry and intellectual. But there is a great difference between concentrating on solving a problem, for example, and meditative concentration.
