In lecture 2 he opines on symbolic and psychological aspects of the 3rd chakra – Manipura – shown here with a yellow center and red triangle that symbolize fire. Interestingly, the location of this chakra overlaps with what we, today, call the “solar” plexus – not because of its symbolic connections to the fiery sun – but rather, simply because the neural projections from this plexus, located between the stomach and the spine, radiate outwardly in a sun-like fashion.
Jung notes that fire symbolism often follows water symbolism – just as occurs in the chakra hierarchy where the previous chakra is symbolized by water. This ancient pattern of symbolism is common across many religious traditions.
“One sees all that very beautifully in the Catholic rite of baptism when the godfather holds the child and the priest approaches with the burning candle and says: Dono tibi lucem eternam (I give thee the eternal light) – which means, I give you relatedness to the sun, to the God.”
So, I guess, after a person emerges from the murky depths of water, the next stage of their spiritual journey or subconscious “awakening” is a time in their lives when they grow to feel connected to something greater than themselves, to something eternal, beyond the everyday world, perhaps cosmic or goldly, etc. Jung suggests that this initial connection to “god” has long been symbolized by the sun and by fire.
“This is a worldwide and ancient symbolism, not only in the Christian baptism and the initiation in the Isis mysteries. For instance, in the religious symbolism of ancient Egypt, the dead Pharoh goes to the underworld and embarks in the ship of the sun. You see, to approach divinity means the escape from the futility of the personal existence, and the achieving of the eternal existence, the escape to a nontemporal form of existence. The Pharoh climbs into the sun bark and travels through the night and conquers the serpent, and then rises again with the god, and is riding over the heavens for all eternity.”
Furthermore, Jung suggests, there is a shared, underlying psychological reason why so many ancient cultures used the common symbols of fire for this phase of their development. It would seem that for many, that once they let go of the closely-held, relatively petty details of their day-to-day life and acknowledge a connection between themselves and the wider universe and things divine – that, upon letting go – their own fires of passion and emotion become alight.
So it is just that – you get into the world of fire, where things become red-hot. After baptism, you get right into hell – that is the enantiodromia. And now comes the paradox of the east: it is also the fullness of jewels. But what is passion, what are emotions? There is the source of fire, there is the fullness of energy. A man who is not on fire is nothing: he is ridiculous, he is two-dimensional. … So when people become acquainted with the unconscious they often get into an extraordinary state – they flare up, they explode, old buried emotions come up, they begin to weep about things which happened forty years ago.
I think I can relate to this notion. Perhaps when you accept that you’re just a part of a larger plan, or just a single link in a long continuum, you stop worrying about the petty stuff which then allows your own deeper passions and emotions to flow more freely. Both the good emotions related to creativity and love as well as feelings of sadness and loss that come along with recognizing your fate and limitations – all begin to emerge. These feelings make a person feel more “alive” than they would just playing it safe, workin’ 9-to-5 payin’ the bills etc., etc. and never allowing themselves to embark on their spiritual journey.
So it seems, as suggested by Jung, that we begin our spiritual awakening as humans have for thousands of years, by “taking the plunge” and choosing – not the “safe career” path – but a path in life that “means something” to us. From the dark, uncertain waters, we emerge – and then the inner fires begin to burn, to inflame our passions and give us energy, to live and to create.
The Ātman (IAST: Ātman, sanskrit: आत्मन्) is a philosophical term used within Hinduism, especially in the Vedanta school to identify the SOUL whether in global sense (world’s soul) or in individual sense (of a person own soul). The word ātman is connected with the Indo-European root *ēt-men (BREATH) and is cognate with Old English “æþm”, Greek “asthma”, German “Atem”: “atmen” (to BREATHE).
The English word SPIRIT comes from the Latin spiritus, meaning “BREATH” (compare spiritus asper), but also “soul, courage, vigor”, ultimately from a Proto-Indo-European *(s)peis, as opposed to Latin anima and Greek psykhē. The word apparently came into Middle English via Old French. The distinction between soul and spirit developed in the Abrahamic religions: Thus we find Greek ψυχη opposite πνευμα ; Latin anima opposite spiritus; Arabic nafs (نفس) opposite rúħ (روح); Hebrew neshama (נְשָׁמָה nəšâmâh) or nephesh (in Hebrew neshama comes from the root NŠM or “BREATH“) opposite ruach (רוּחַ rûaħ).
Similar concepts in other languages include Greek pneuma from which is derived the term “Pneumatology” – the study of SPIRITUAL beings and phenomena, especially the interactions between humans and God. Pneuma (πνεῦμα) is Greek for “BREATH“, which metaphorically describes a non-material being or influence. Similarly, Scandinavian languages, Slavic languages and the Chinese language (qi) use the words for “breath” to express concepts similar to “the spirit“.
Their data suggest that genetic influences on cognitive function act outside of the brain areas most commonly activated during cognitive tasks. The areas where genes seem to exert influence on brain activity are quite variable from person to person (which is why they don’t show up in group-level analyses). Thus folks with different genetic variability use slightly different brain areas to accomplish the same cognitive task.
Jung focuses on the chakra symbols – which have many different biological, physiological and psychological interpretations. To Jung, the chakra symbols reflect a natural psychological process of self-awareness and spiritual development. In the Kundalini Yoga tradition, there begins a “natural awakening” that occurs in life that motivates a person to pursue endeavors that have some sort of personal “meaning” rather than be content with just the basic ordinary existence. I guess we all get tired of just payin’-the-bills, so to speak?
According to the ancient vedic texts, the “Kundalini” refers to a symbolic female serpent that awakens and starts to rise up inside of us. In the very earliest stages of this awakening one goes from the low self-awareness of ordinary day-to-day life to a higher state of self-awareness – a more personal inner-awareness of our devotions, purpose or motivations. His words from lecture 1:
Some strange urge underneath forces them to do something which is not just the ordinary thing.
This is a common, wonderful aspect of our lives right? Don’t we all hit a point where we want to do something “special” with our lives? I can’t help but think of all the coaches, music teachers, artists, etc. etc., that I’ve met in my life who weren’t happy just payin-the-bills and opted to do something “special” with their time.
But there lies some danger in trying to do something “special” !
If we step off the path of the ordinary, practical concerns of daily life to do something unconventional or “for the love of it”, we risk losing the safety and stability of our everyday life. The banker who leaves work early to coach a little league team may put his career at risk. The kid who chooses music as a major instead of accounting similarly trades a staid (boring) future for a more impoverished (but perhaps fulfilling) future. And so on and so on. We’ve all been there.
In terms of the chakra symbols, the shift from this lowest, ordinary, root, muladhara stage to the next swadhisthana stage involves a symbolic shift from earth to water. This can be seen in the images on the chakra symbols: a stable elephant in the root chakra and the sea with a leviathan as depicted in the next higher level chakra symbol (shown here). Jung says the shift from “ordinary life” to the pursuit of a “meaningful life” is naturally fraught with psychological fear given the inherent risks, uncertainty and possibility of failure.
This very normal and common human psychological transition, he points out, has long been recognized by other ancient cultures. Similarly, they characterized this very common psychological shift as one from earth to water. I guess its not all that surprising if you think of the fear you’d have if thrown in the water and unable to swim (no such thing as swim lessons back in the day). Jung opines:
The way into any higher development leads through water, with the danger of being swallowed by the monster. If you study the beautiful mosaic pictures in the Baptistry of the Orthodox in Ravenna … you see four scenes depicted on the wall: two describe the baptism of Christ in the Jordan; and the fourth is St. Peter drowning in a lake during a storm … Baptism is a symbolic drowning.
So perhaps the very first steps in taking on a new “meaningful” direction in life – from simply payin’ the bills to doing something personally fulfilling – is to face the inherent uncertainties and fears. To move into the murky depths and confront the possibility of failure and loss.
OK. I will try and ground my sit bones into the water – rather than the earth!
Is there such a thing as a “true” guru? A gentle sage atop a mountain who lives only to practice and nurture the spiritual growth of students? Like many students, I’ve always carried this idealized and universal notion close to my heart. Back in school, my favorite professors were the genuine, off-beat ones who really lived for their work. Today, as a new yoga student, I feel the same way about the teachers who genuinely seem to live and breathe yoga.
Nevertheless, in the real world, this ideal can, understandably, be hard to live up to. Ask Jews, Catholics and Protestants as to which group is more “true” or follows the “real”, “orthodox” or idealized tradition. Better yet – don’t go there. Nor Sikh, Hindu, Shia or Sunni, etc. etc. Since their dawn, spiritual pursuits have had a natural tendency to splinter and sub-divide as zealous followers strive to maintain the “pure”, “true”, “uncorrupted” ideals of their faith – hence, thousand years of religious war. Indeed, the desire for spiritual purity is a powerful force.
Recently, the blogospere was buzzing about John Friend, a well-liked and highly regarded teacher and founder of Anusara yoga (nicely summarized here). Some of the buzz centered on the age-old question of whether the new tradition of Anusara yoga is really, truly valid and also whether Friend is a “true” guru or more of a (now rather wealthy) profit-seeking entrepreneur.
True or phoney. Its an age-old, passion-inflaming topic to be sure – great for driving blogosphere traffic! Even for yoga, its an issue that is thousands of years old (see David Gordon-White‘s “Sinister Yogis“). From his book page:
Combing through millennia of South Asia’s vast and diverse literature, he discovers that yogis are usually portrayed as wonder-workers or sorcerers who use their dangerous supernatural abilities—which can include raising the dead, possession, and levitation—to acquire power, money, and sexual gratification. As White shows, even those yogis who aren’t downright villainous bear little resemblance to Western assumptions about them. At turns rollicking and sophisticated, Sinister Yogis tears down the image of yogis as detached, contemplative teachers, finally placing them in their proper context.
Of course, the recent blogosphere buzz about John Friend is nothing of this sort – its just a few impassioned blog posts here and there (watch Yoga Inc. for a more intense debate).
Perhaps this reflects one of the great things about yoga. Even with its own age-old debate of “true guru vs. showman”, it remains so uniquely free of the epic strife and hard feelings associated with other spiritual traditions. Its bare-bones, bare-foot simplicity offers little for debate and intellectual hang-ups and makes it easy to accommodate its many splintered traditions within any given yoga shala.
I came across these remarks by Carl Jung made in 1936 in his work, “Yoga and the West” – who seemed to parse the issues quite handily and foresee the over-hyping to come:
“Yoga was originally a natural process of introversion. … Such introversions lead to characteristic inner processes of personality changes. In the course of several thousand years these introversions became gradually organized as methods, and along widely different ways.”
“I can, however say something about what it [yoga] means for the West. Our lack of direction borders on psychic anarchy. Therefore any religious or philosophical practice amounts to a psychological discipline, and therefore a method of psychic hygiene.”
“Yoga is mainly found in India now as a business proposition and woe to us when it reaches Europe.”
Before science and spirituality became dis-integrated, separate explorations (in the past 200 years), they were tightly intertwined and integrated for thousands of years in the practice of ALCHEMY. Just as alchemists (yogis were among the first and best alchemists!) tried to transmutate lesser metals into gold, they also sought to improve and perfect their bodies and minds. Eventually, the process became quite standardized across cultures along both chemical and psychological dimensions.
Calcination – Basically this means to destroy the substance. Normally by burning it to ashes. Mentally it is the destruction of the ego.
Yoga postures can be so darn difficult. Practice certainly has a way of crushing the ego. Much to explore here as modern science increasingly seeks to re-integrate science and spirituality.
Once in class, while trying to get my arms up during Prasarita Padottanasana C (no hopes for “over” and “down to the floor” for me, just “up” with merely a slight forward bend) my instructor said that the first time she was able to touch her clasped hands to the floor, she felt like she “went out of her body”. Lucky her! Wouldn’t that be cool! I thought to myself. Maybe someday.
Could her experience – possibly – be akin to the experiences of early Vedic writers and yogis who practiced strange and difficult postures as part of their spiritual development?
The yoga sutrasIII.39“bandhakarana saithilyat pracara samvedanat ca cittasya parasariravesah” (Through relaxation of the causes of bondage, and the free flow of consciousness, the yogi enters another’s body at will.) and III.40 “udanajayat jala panka kantakadisu asangah utkrantih ca” (By mastery of udana vayu, the yogi can walk over water, swamps and thorns without touching them. He can also levitate.) – seem to tenuously address something like “being out of one’s body”.
What science research studies today – unknown to the ancient sages who may have experienced such states – are the various brain systems that can give rise to such experiences. The fancy scientific terms for hallucinations of separating from one’s body are heautoscopy and autoscopy and go by other more common terms such as doppelganger or just “out of body experiences”. As reported in, “Brain electrodes conjure up ghostly visions“ (Nature, 2006) and in “Electrodes trigger out-of-body experience” (Nature, 2002):
Simple stimulation of the brain can cause the mind to play complex and creepy tricks on itself, neurologists have discovered. They found that, by inserting electrodes into a specific part of the brain [left temporoparietal junction], they could induce a patient to sense that an illusory ‘shadow person’ was lurking behind her and mimicking her movements.
People describe out-of-body experiences as feeling that their consciousness becomes detached from their body, often floating above it. … Blanke found that electrically stimulating one brain region — the right angular gyrus — repeatedly triggers out-of-body experiences. … The right angular gyrus integrates visual information — the sight of your body — and information that creates the mind’s representation of your body. This is based on balance and feedback from your limbs about their position in space.
So, the whole proposition of “out of body” seems less far-fetched to me, perhaps there are possibilities to experience such states of mind – more plausible under conditions of neurological pathology – rather than during yoga practice. But, something to meditate on in the years to come.
The brain and mind changes that come with extensive yoga practice seem to increase inner awareness and – as many practitioners report – towards a more “spiritual” awareness. What is this? … in terms of specific brain systems? One recent research article, “The Spiritual Brain: Selective Cortical Lesions Modulate Human Self-Transcendence” has much to say on the types of brain systems that are engaged when we are experiencing connections to each other, our inner selves and other deeper, broader perspectives.
The researchers measured the self-transcendence scores of individuals before and after the removal of brain tissue (gliomas) in various parts of the brain – specifically the posterior parietal cortex. It was interesting that the – removal – of certain areas of the brain resulted in – higher – scores for self-transcendence. Perhaps this suggests that the effort made in yoga – to silence and still our mental processes – might have a roughly analogous effect of taking certain brain areas “offline”? Could this be what is happening in yoga and meditation? – a quieting of the posterior parietal cortex? Much to ponder and explore.
Combining pre- and post-neurosurgery personality assessment with advanced brain-lesion mapping techniques, we found that selective damage to left and right inferior posterior parietal regions induced a specific increase of self-transcendence. Therefore, modifications of neural activity in temporoparietal areas may induce unusually fast modulations of a stable personality trait related to transcendental self-referential awareness.
It is relevant that the posterior parietal cortex is involved in the representation of different aspects of bodily knowledge. Lesions of the left posterior parietal cortex induce selective deficits in the representation of the spatial relationships between body segments and delusions regarding body parts occur after lesions centered on the right temporoparietal cortex. Furthermore, illusory localization of the self into the extrapersonal space has been reported in patients with left (heautoscopic phenomena) and right temporoparietal damage (out-of-body experiences). Thus, we posit that the reduction of neural activity in the temporoparietal cortex during spiritual experiences may reflect an altered sense of one’s own body in space.
This blog is more genomes, brains, social entrepreneurship and health 2.0 – than politics. Hopefully the political phase will soon pass and some sensible regulations will preserve the right of consumers to access their genomes, while protecting consumers from scammers.
The one thing I hope does not happen is that the regulatory agencies (they work for us right?) “punt” on the issue and turn the whole consumer genetics ball of wax over to medical doctors and the medical insurance complex. Like many, I am inspired by open-source, open-access, crowd-sourcing, bioinformatic and other open, web-based tools that allow consumers to by-pass the so-called “experts” in news media, finance, health and so many other industries that are being transformed by information technology. The economic benefits for consumers are well documented, and so, a country like the U.S. – economically sinking in a healthcare affordability crisis – might benefit (in the longer run) if it nurtured industries that helped consumers freely and openly ascertain their risks for illness without having to go through the economic choke point of an establishment of medical “experts”.
Update: The comment stream on Daniel MacArthur’s (Genomes Unzipped) post are chilling. Many of the responders seem to have experience in the direct-to-consumer genetics business, and they don’t sound as optimistic as my (naive) self. Part of one comment:
Seriously, you don’t understand. The DTC testing industry is ALREADY DEAD. In the Wall Street Journal, Shuren declared DTC subject to PMA approval, which costs tens of million of dollars! People are quitting the companies by the droves. 23andMe’s former director of regulatory affairs left for NextBio. VCs have refused to re-up. There will be no Series X+1 financing for an industry with no growth potential.
Nothing to do with science … but, when I was a kid, I papered my room with posters of baseball, football, soccer and other sport stars. If I could do the same today (wife says no way), I’d put up a huge poster of this – 1998 Heisman Trophy winner Ricky Williams who practices yoga. Some other famous professional athletes known to practice yoga are: LeBron James, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Ray Lewis, Andre Iguodala, Barry Zito … the list grows!
As far as science movies go, the new movie, “To Age or Not To Age” seems like a lot of fun. The interview with Dr. Leonard Guarente suggests that the sirtuin genes play a starring role in the film. Certainly, an NAD+ dependent histone deacetylase – makes for a sexy movie star – especially when it is able to sense diet and metabolism and establish the overall lifespan of an organism.
One comment in the movie trailer, by Aubrey de Grey, suggests that humans may someday be able to push the physiology of aging to extreme ends. That studies of transgenic mice over-expressing SIRT1 showed physiological properties of calorie-restricted (long lived) mice – even when fed ad libitum – suggests that something similar might be possible in humans.
Pop a pill and live it up at your local Denny’s for the next 100 years? Sounds nice (& a lot like grad school).
Our findings suggest that CR triggers a reduction in Sirt1 activity in hypothalamic neurons governing somatotropic signaling to lower this axis, in contrast with the activation of Sirt1 by CR in many other tissues. Sirt1 may have evolved to positively regulate the somatotropic axis, as it does insulin production in β cells, to control mammalian health span and life span in an overarching way. However, the fact that Sirt1 is a positive regulator of the somatotropic axis may complicate attempts to increase murine life span by whole-body activation of this sirtuin.
To a limited extent, it seems that – in the brain – SIRT1 has the normal function of promoting aging. Therefore, developing “pills” that are activators of SIRT1 would be good for the body, but somehow might be counteracted by what the brain would do. Who’s in charge anyway? Mother Nature will not make it easy to cheat her!Another paper published recently also examined the role of SIRT1 in the brain and found that – normally – SIRT1 enhances neuronal plasticity (by blocking the expression of a micro-RNA miR-134 that binds to the mRNA of, and inhibits the translation of, synaptic plasticity proteins such as CREB).
So, I won’t be first to line up for SIRT1 “activator” pills (such as Resveratrol), but I might pop a few if I’m trying to learn something new.
The current buzz about about GWAS and longevity and GWAS in general has stirred up many longstanding inconvenient issues that arise when trying to interpret the results of very large, expensive and worthwhile genetic studies. Its seems that Mother Nature does not give up her secrets without a fight.
One of the most common “inconvenient issues” is the fact that so many of the SNPs that come out of these studies are located far away from protein-encoding exons. This ubiquitous observation is almost always followed with, “well, maybe its in linkage disequilibrium with a more functional SNP” or something along these lines – wherein the authors get an automatic pass. OK by me.
Another “inconvenient issue” is the fact that many of these SNPs are of minimal effect and don’t exactly add up or interact to account for the expected heritability. This problem of “missing heritability” is a big one (see some new insights in the latest issue of Nature Genetics) leading many to suspect that the effects of genes are dependent on complex interactions with each other and the environment.
A recent paper, “A map of open chromatin in human pancreatic islets” [doi:10.1038/ng.530] by Gaulton and colleagues caught my eye because it seems to shed light on both of these particular inconvenient issues. The authors find that the diabetes risk variant rs7903146 in the TCF7L2 gene is both located in an intron and subject to epigenetic regulation (our sedentary, high-fat, high-stress lives can potentially interact with the genome by causing epigenetic change).
It appears that the T-allele of the intronic rs7903146 is correlated with a more open, transcription-prone form of DNA/chromatin than is the C-allele. The authors confirmed this using both chromatin mapping and gene expression assays on pancreatic islet cells harvested from non-diabetic donors and islet cell-lines. The results suggest that the risk-conferring T-allele of this intronic SNP may be driving expression (gain-of-function) of the TCF7L2 gene. What types of environmental stimuli might also impact the opening and closing of chromatin at this location?
This type of interplay of environment, genome and epigenome is probably rampant in the area of brain and behavior – so perhaps the study of diabetes will provide some clues to the many GWAS SNPs that are far away from exons. More on the genetics of epigenetics here.
But the most important fact for our investigation is the discovery at Mohenjo-daro, of an iconographic type that may be considered the earliest plastic representation of a yogin. Here, the Great God himself, in whom the prototype of Siva has been identified, is represented in the specifically yogic posture. Sir John Marshall describes the figure as follows: “The God, who is three-faced, is seated on a low Indian throne in a typical attitude of Yoga, with legs bent double beneath him, heel to heel, and toes turned downwards. … Over his breast is a triangular pectoral or perhaps a series of necklaces or torques. … The phallus [is] seemingly exposed, but it is possible that what appears to be the phallus is in reality the end of the waistband. Crowning his head is a pair of horns meeting in a tall head-dress. To either side of the god are four animals, an elephant and a tiger on his proper right, a rhinoceros and a buffalo on his left. Beneath the throne are two deer standing with heads regardant and horns turned toward the center.” One of the most recent writers to express an opinion on the question, Stuart Piggott, writes: “There can be little doubt that we have here the prototype of the great god Shiva as the Lord of Beasts and the Prince of Yogis; he may have been conceived as four-faced, and with his four animals looks to quarters of the earth.
As much as I might fantasize, I know I’ll never attain the lofty state of Samadhi or enlightenment that purportedly comes with a lifetime of dedicated practice to yoga. For one thing, my life presently revolves around raising my 2 children – meals, homework, sports practices, camps, yoga lessons etc. – leaving just a small amount of time to write and practice yoga. This is, of course, far from the ideal ascetic life of a yogi on a mountaintop – even though the thought of all that peace and quiet seems, itself, rather divine.
Alas, I’m all too aware that to attain the “great inward awareness”, one must withdraw from the typical everyday routine and sequester to a place of solitude. Mircea Eliade remarks in his book, Yoga: Immortality and Freedom (p.45):
The resistance that the subconscious opposes to every act of renunciation and asceticism, to every act that could result in the emancipation of the Self, is, as it were, the token of the fear that the subconscious feels at the mere idea that the mass of as yet unmanifested latentcies could fail of their destiny, could be destroyed before having time to manifest and actualize themselves.
To me, this very dilemma – to step out of, or to renounce the world vs. to live and partake in it – is one that seems at the core of any aspiring yogi’s spiritual journey. Eliade continues:
This thirst for actualization on the part of the vasanas is nevertheless interpenetrated by the thirst for extinction, for “repose”, that occurs at all levels of the cosmos.
Its a deep personal conflict for all of us. The desire to focus oneself and seek simplicity and perfection vs. the desire to embrace the diverse workaday world with family, friends and always lots of fun stuff to do. The conflict may even bubble up into discussions of national identity where some political leaders advocate a quiet, withdrawn, simple life (ie. Mohandas Gandhi) while others advocate an embrace of modernity and internationalism (ie. Jawaharlal Nehru). Indeed, almost every country copes with some type of internal conflicts of religion vs. secularism – perhaps just a macroscopic side-effect of this deep personal conflict.
Of course, I’m not qualified to offer advice on these BIG questions, but much enjoyed a blog post by Mark Eckhardt’s Zen Bite column over at This Emotional Life. He makes the case that attainment of “enlightenment” might not be THE final endpoint and that ascending the mountain is only HALF the journey.
Integrating your enlightenment is where the work really begins — this is “Descending the Mountain.” Doing so is humbling, often turbulent and requires that you face some tough realities. By this I mean that you accept the impact of your thoughts and actions on yourself and others.
Through regular practice, greater awareness, understanding and acceptance of ourselves develops. As this happens, the ability to detect a wider spectrum of emotional and psychological states makes it possible to take advantage of the small gap between thought and action. In fact, neuroscience researchers have discovered that this is approximately 2/10 of a second — more than enough time to take or prevent action that otherwise would be unheard of. In Zen we refer to this as pausing and growing thoughtful, and it is the gateway to improved relationships, courage, inspiration and satisfaction.
So, it seems that I should try and climb the spiritual mountain (like Gandhi), and then come back into the world (like Nehru) and use the benefits – to live – rather than withdraw. Perhaps just a little bit each day.
The concept of “immortality” lies deep in the core of Indian spirituality and the religious traditions of many other cultures. Its probably not a coincidence that one of the first and, still, most influential books on the history of yoga is entitled, Yoga: Immortality and Freedom by Mircea Eliade (you can read the book online here)
Most of the time, this refers to some part of a person – the soul, spirit or otherwise – that lives on forever after the physical body decays. That we are able to recognize and ponder our mortality and the suffering of the physical body, is an integral part of why, in the first place, we seek to practice religion (covered here).
I mean, no one ever took the concept of immortality LITERALLY, did they? Perhaps not. Until now. Check out the trailer for a new movie that opens tonight in New York City on the science of Aging: To Age or Not To Age – a film by Robert Kane Pappas. At the center of this film is likely the so-called longevity gene known as SIRT1 (covered earlier here).
Pointer to a neat lecture on humans’ natural predisposition toward empathy which seems to be rooted deeply in our species’ need for social belonging as well as “grounded in the acknowledgment of death” (related post here). The virtue of compassion is obviously deeply rooted in Bhagavad Gita and certainly a mental and emotional capacity that should grow and flourish with yoga practice. Nice to see its biological roots under investigation in mainstream science!
As I’ve mentioned, I’m a new yoga student – very new – very, very far away from the archetypal, experienced yoga practitioners one often sees in books and videos (ok, maybe not these guys). I’m inspired, and do realize the journey will be a long one. However, is the journey a straight path? Does it have twists and turns? What IS the endpoint anyway? and how do I know I’m there?
Reduced to its simplest terms, yoga (“yoking”) is concerned with impeding movement, with the immobilization with all that is mobile within the body.
Ultimate stillness. The kind demonstrated by the elderly yogi who was able to voluntarily slow his heart for 8 days (covered here). So this is where the practice ends – in physical and mental stillness – awareness with stillness.
More compassionate? More patient? Healthier? Perhaps this comes with the stillness? My gut and experience so far says yes, this is where I want to go. Not to withdraw from life, my family and friends like a lone yogi on a mountaintop, but to acquire a more peaceful and patient disposition that helps myself and others to better cope with life’s twists and turns.
However, David Gordon White’s The Alchemical Body suggests that the pathway is anything but a straight downhill ride to samadhi. There are myriad natural bodily desires and mental tendencies that push against this pathway, making it an arduous journey where the student can be bucked sideways while fighting against the tide. As DGW interprets the ancient texts in Chapter 9:
One first immobilizes the body through the postures; next one immobilizes the breaths through diaphragmatic retention; one then immobilizes the seed through the “seals” [bhandas]; and finally one immobilizes the mind through concentration on the subtle inner reverberations of the phonemes.
What a difficult, even heroic undertaking the immobilization of the body constitutes, yet what fantastic results it yields! For immobilization leads to reversal, reversal to transformation, and transformation is tantamount to bodily immortality and, precisely, to the [supposed] supernatural ability to transform, reverse, or immobilize whatever one desires in the physical world (siddhi).
Reversal? Transformation? Much to explore here in the years to come.
One thing that draws me to yoga, apart from other pure meditative practices, is that it places an emphasis on the body and mind, and not just the mind alone. By paying attention to one’s diet, working diligently on postures and breathing, etc., there comes a transformation (still many years away for me) of both the body and the mind. The concept of Kundalini seems to capture this – wherein a kind of psychic energy is awoken and driven slowly up through the spinal column and into the brain – releasing all sorts of desirable cognitive and physical benefits.
Transform the body and the mind will follow?
Today I was reminded of this when I saw a research article entitled, “A novel pathway regulates memory and plasticity via SIRT1 and miR-134” that was published in the prestigious scientific journal Nature. In this article, the researchers examined a gene called SIRT1 which encodes a small protein that regulates the structure of chromosomes in response to the overall energy state of cells. Most famously, it has been shown that SIRT1 mediates the longevity, cardiovascular and anti-inflammatory health benefits that occur when individuals observe a diet that is calorie restricted.
In his book on Ayurvedic medicine and Kundalini yoga, Sri Swami Sivananda remarks, not on SIRT1 (obviously), but on the importance of a calorie-restricted diet as a part of the long-standing commitment to certain virtuous observances or Niyama:
A glutton cannot at the very outset have diet regulations and observe Mitahara. He must gradually practise this. First let him take less quantity twice as usual. Then instead of the usual heavy night meals, let him take fruits and milk alone for some days. In due course of time he can completely avoid the night meals and try to take fruits and milk in the daytime. Those who do intense Sadhana must take milk alone. It is a perfect food by itself. If necessary they can take some easily digestible fruits.
Indeed, a restricted diet (but not a fasting state) is a part of the yoga practice. This observance has long been known to confer tremendous bodily health benefits – that, it turns out, are mediated by SIRT1! Indeed, if ever there were a “longevity gene” SIRT1 would be it. When it is over-expressed (in mice) the mice show many of the same health benefits as seen in mice that are on calorie-restricted diets (even though the mice can eat as much as they want). Conversely, when the gene is inactivated, the mice die early and are in poor health.
In any case, today’s research article takes the SIRT1 story from the body and pushes it upwards (like the awakening kundalini) to the mind. The article demonstrates that overexpression of SIRT1 improves cognitive function while inactivation of SIRT1 in the brain lessens cognitive function.
So it seems that body and mind are ever more unified and that – even on the molecular level – what is good for one has benefits for the other.
An exploration of HOW mindfulness practices such as yoga and meditation transform the body and mind seems inextricably tied to the question of, “WHY, in the first place, would anyone want to sit for days and meditate?” What was it that motivated early humans and early civilizations to engage in these so-called “spiritual” practices? Why does a practice like yoga engage people on a self-reflective or spiritual level?
As a biologist, I’d like to explore the mental and physical transformations that occur when one practices (and practices) yoga and meditation – so perhaps a place to begin this exploration is with a scientific hypothesis about the WHY, that in some ways might be testable insofar as it might point to certain mental and physical processes – which themselves – might function as targets or recipient processes that are engaged in the course of practice (the HOW).
Religion thus met the newly evolving human need to understand and control life. Religion serves the same purposes as science and the arts – “the extraction of order from the mysteries of the material world,” as Wilson puts it – but in the prescientific era there was no other source of order except for philosophy, which was comprehensible only to a favored few and in any case was nowhere nearly as emotionally satisfying as religion.
Still another major function of religion was to act as a binding and cementing social force. I quote Wilson again: “Religion is … empowered mightily by its principal ally, tribalism. The shamans and priests implore us in somber cadence, Trust in the sacred rituals, become part of the immortal force, you are one of us.” Religious propitiation and sacrifice – near-universals of religious practice – are acts of submission to a dominant being and dominance hierarchy.
For all these reasons, says Wilson, “Acceptance of the supernatural conveyed a great advantage throughout prehistory, when the brain was evolving.” The human mind evolved to believe in the gods even as religious institutions became built-ins of society.
And so, to sum up the sociobiological theory of the roots of religion: genetically built into early human beings was a set of mental, emotional, and social needs that caused culture to develop in certain ways – including the development of various religions – and caused culture, reciprocally, to favor and select for evolution those human traits that provided sociocultural advantages to the individuals possessing them. “Religion,” says Burkert, “follows in the tracks of biology … [and] the aboriginal invention of language … yield[ing] coherence, stability, and control within this world. This is what the individual is groping for, gladly accepting the existence of nonobvious entities or even principles.”
Man, there is just so much to learn about the early history of yoga and the origins of the rituals and practices of today.
One basic and central theme that emerges early in the book is that ancient religious practices are rooted in a fundamental notion of “body-world”, “spirit-world” and various “in-between” or “transitionary” states. This 3-fold view of the world is rather universal to human cultures and perhaps extends very far back in human history – perhaps emerging early in our evolutionary tree as humans/neanderthals evolved a mental capacity to recognize and contemplate their own mortality. For instance, evidence for religious behavior and burial rites reach as way far back as 300,000 years ago in the Middle Paleolithic seems to suggest that early humans acknowledged “something” beyond the physical earthy body.
So it seems that the concepts I personally contemplate in my own practice – my inner self, reaching for a deeper connection to something beyond, etc. – are the very same issues that our ancient ancestors struggled with as well. Clearly the contemplative practices – like those borne out in yoga are old – Mohenjo-daro old – which makes it hard to know their ancient history. In some way though, it feels wonderful to partake in this very old, very primal tradition – to push my gaze inward as humans have been trying to do for millennia.
With a recognition of our mortality in mind, many contemplative and religious practices – just like yoga – are very much centered around making transitions or connections from the earthly body to the more pure and immortal spirit world. White points out that for millennia, one universally intuitive way that humans would make such bridges was via ritualized sacrifices. By offering animal, blood or other types of sacrifices to spiritual beings, early human cultures attempted to open a connection, offer appeasement or other intermediate linkage with the spirit world.
Interestingly, what seems to have happened at some point on the way to our modern yoga is that ritualized sacrifice morphed from the outward slaughter of an animal to an inward-looking type of self-sacrifice. From Chapter 1 of TAB:
Within a few centuries of the composition of [the Satapatha Brahmana], a revolution in Indian thought would issue into the notion that humans too could internalize the sacrifice and thereby entirely bypass the mechanism of external sacrifice. This inward turn, which would ground the entire gnostic and nondualist project of the Upanisads, also sowed the seeds for the innovation of a body of techniques for internal bodily transformation – i.e. for the practice of hatha yoga.
And from Chapter 9:
Of vital importance to the yogic tradition is the fact that the sacrificial fires in question are gathered together in one’s body. There they serve as both a cremation pyre – by which the now-obsolete mundane, social body is shown to have truly died to the world – and, in the post-crematory existence of the sannyasin (the “renouncer”), as the seat of sacrifice, which has now been internalized. It is here, in the inner fires of tapas, which fuel the offerings of one’s vital breaths in the inner sacrifice known as the pranagnihotra, that the practice of yoga very likely had its theoretical origins.
So perhaps at a very deep, very primal level, my yoga practice is a type of sacrifice – an ancient, hopeful attempt to make a connection with a spirituality or something larger and more everlasting than my flabby, aging body. To recognize – most poignantly during “corpse pose” – that I am mortal, but wish not to be so.
Genes 2 Brains 2 Mind 2 Me 