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Part 1: The Essence of Āsana and the Five Kośas Now, try to keep your body straight but more relaxed. To relax the body further and allow the diaphragm more volume for oxygen, there is Vajrāsana. So, who can comfortably sit in Vajrāsana? I would suggest you sit in Vajrāsana. When we sit in Vajrāsana, the spine is automatically straight. When the spine is straight, our shoulders relax. When the shoulders are relaxed, the stomach muscles relax. Because our lungs, chest, and ribs are more relaxed, the chest has more volume to breathe in Vajrāsana. You can do other postures, but often we slump like this. It is not easy to sit like that for twenty minutes. All yoga books show postures like this, but only until the camera clicks, and then, thank you. However, certain postures automatically adjust in such a way that we get what we need. When the shoulders are relaxed, the elbows relax. And when the elbows are relaxed, be sure you are comfortable. But what about our knees? And what about our ankle joints? These two joints bear more weight. So some have difficulty and cannot maintain sitting for ten or twenty minutes in Vajrāsana. Changing posture frequently is not good, so the choice is individual. You decide. This is point number one. Number two: when we practice, we said to be relaxed, comfortable, with no movements—feel the motionlessness of the body. It is very easy for me to say, "Don't move." But for one who has a problem with the ankle joint or the knee, it is a challenge. And think, when will he stop giving instruction to say, "Now change the posture"? So, pain arises. Then we are not concentrating on the breath; we are concentrating on the part of the body in pain. Then everything you do has no sense because you are suffering. This is the second point. Through postures alone, we cannot get liberation. Therefore, you can sit in a chair, or you can stretch your leg like this. It is comfortable, and we can proceed. I am okay. It does not matter which posture we are in; our lungs take oxygen automatically and they will breathe. So, the posture means āsana. The definition of āsana is manifold; there are many definitions. Āsana means not only the postures, but also all these postures we are doing are called āsana. Languages are sometimes very interesting. One word has many meanings. For example, in India, one might ask me, "Swāmījī, where is your āsana today?" I will say, in the ashram, or in that house, or in the hotel. It means where I will sleep, where I am staying. That is my bed, my āsana. So this is one meaning. Second, you say, "Where is your āsana?" meaning, where is your seat? Third, it is your yoga mat, what you call it. This is called your āsana. "Where is your yoga āsana?" So we call it a yoga mat. Then we have this sitting here. This is also āsana. So this āsana is symbolic; it belongs to some level of grade, upgrade, or downgrade. Like this chair is the chair of the president, this is the chair of the secretary, this is the chair of the manager. Now, āsana—about which āsana are you talking? And one sits in āsana to practice prāṇāyāma. So this is the prāṇāyāma posture, prāṇāyāma āsana. There are many things. Take salt, what you call Himalayan salt; that salt we call seṇḍā namak in Hindi. Seṇḍā. Seṇḍā means salt. But also, seṇḍā means a horse. Now, if you know the language, you have to use your vivekā, your common sense. So if I am sitting at a dining table and ask someone, "Please bring seṇḍā," someone might go to the horse stable and bring a horse. Then I would say, "No, I want salt." Or if I am going somewhere and say, "Bring seṇḍā," meaning I want a horse to go somewhere. Language changes like this; the translation of certain words is not easy. So, merely knowing a language does not mean you will translate perfectly. This is called in language śabdārtha. Śabda means the word. Artha means meaning. But artha also means wealth, as in the four pillars of life: dharma, artha, kāma, mokṣa. So śabdārtha is the knowledge of the word. Yet sometimes we cannot translate word for word. Then it has to be bhāvārtha—there should be a better feeling for the language into which you are going to translate. And Jñānārtha is the knowledge. If we have these three, then we can be the best translator. And those who listen to the translation will enjoy it too. In this way, in yoga practice and yoga kriyās, there are many things. According to yogic science, yogic language, and yogic terminology, you first have to learn this; then you are a good yoga teacher. Our body is divided into five different bodies. Generally, we call them three bodies: the physical body, mental body, and subtle body. But when we come to the real translations and to understand this body, it is called Annamaya Kośa, Prāṇamaya Kośa, Manomaya Kośa, Vijñānamaya Kośa, and Ānandamaya Kośa. Kośa means the sheath, the quarters, the space. So one body, our body, is a space, a room for us. Annamaya kośa: anna means food. This is the body of nourishment where the five elements are connected. So the first is the physical body, called annamaya kośa, the body of nourishment. Then comes prāṇa, prāṇamaya kośa. The prāṇa is stronger than the physical body. Prāṇa is the energy, and this prāṇa has immense strength. When we inhale—let's say the breath—if we have to lift a suitcase or something heavy, automatically, without asking or knowing, we will inhale and hold the breath to put the luggage up. So this prāṇa involves kumbhaka, the retention of the breath, to give strength to that energy, the prāṇa. Consider a truck with thirty or forty tons of load, but the tires, which have air inside, are holding and letting the truck roll smoothly. That is the miracle or strength of the air. But holding is also a strength. The prāṇa is like cement between two bricks, holding together this physical body and all its functions. Prāṇa is sometimes compared with the soul. If someone dies, we say, "Well, it's gone." This prāṇa is gone. No more prāṇa. As long as you have prāṇa in your body, there is life. So, is the prāṇa a soul, or is the soul the prāṇa? To understand this science of our body and to understand how the creature designed this all perfectly balanced... So prāṇa is like a soul, life. When there is no energy, no prāṇa, it is dead. So perhaps the soul is the source of the prāṇa, or prāṇa is the source of the soul. That we can only realize when we come to higher consciousness to understand. So, for a yoga teacher, in yoga and daily life, a minimum of three years training is needed to become a yoga teacher. Then, to practice and get perfect results from your knowledge, you need one more year or two. So five years of training makes you a good yoga teacher. If you want something more, then you have to study further to become a surgeon or enter a different profession, a different subject. A yoga teacher is known as a master, and master means to know everything. The master is a knower, but practice makes the master, not only theory. Tons of theory is nothing without a gram of practice. Practically, even one gram is more than the theory. If you are hungry and we talk about food, and food, and good quality, and this and that, again the stomach is calling, "Where is that? Where is that?" But if you get one bean or a little one bite, that something is there. That is practice. Practice makes a master. So to become a good yoga teacher who can give your students that wisdom and the beginning of all the hidden powers and qualities is not easy. If you read one book and say, "Okay, I know these postures, and I can do it," the postures themselves are not yoga. I know how to make the breath left and right. That is not it. You need not be told when you were born or what you did first: inhale. What you did second: cry. And the third: you will exhale and you cannot inhale anymore—death. So, it is an ocean, thousands of kilometers, but from one soul to the other soul, a wave begins there and comes till here. Inhalation, exhalation. So, the prāṇa—sorry—so prāṇa is the source of life. Prāṇa itself is life, and we call God Prāṇāth—Lord of my life. This prāṇa is my God, is my prāṇa. To understand this is to understand the science of the body. What we call astral traveling: first traveling through the whole body, and in this body there are many universes. Not only that, you relax your whole body from the toes to the top of the head. Yes. But did you understand? Just to know, just to know the function, the miracles of the kidney, might take years and years spiritually to understand. A medical anatomist is okay. They know what it is and this: cut off, take it out, put a new one in. Some organs we can do. And medicine, modern medicine, what we call allopathic medicine, has made immense progress. We should not deny it; we should not criticize it. This medicine can save our life. Sometimes, again, it can bring life back. But still, certain things we cannot. That is only to understand, so this is called the body. Each organ, its glands, nerves, and its tissues, the cells in the body are wonderful, wondrous. Only God could do, the mother God could do, or the father God could do, or what it is. It is perfect. Still, thanks to God that He is still not angry. How many children are born every day, humans and animals, and, you know, God gives us such a beautiful face, the eyes beautiful, but He does not make one eye small and the second one bigger. Oh God, that would be a burden. How perfect the measurement, millimeter, and thanks to God that He did not forget and put eyes here, on the backside. So mother nature or God—we cannot compare with them. Prāṇa. Prāṇat. The prāṇa is the strength. After that, quicker and with the biggest strength, is the mind. So, prāṇamaya kośa. Annamaya is the body of nourishment. Prāṇa is the body of this energy, prāṇa. Then comes manomaya kośa. Mana is the mind. The mind's definition is a very big topic; tomorrow, maybe we will begin to tell something again. The mind, the speed of the mind is very, very quick. The mind is immediate. Let's say I say one word to you, and you are immediately there. So, Tokyo—oh, you are already in Tokyo, New York, New Delhi, Vienna, any place, the moon, the sun. Immediately, it is there. The speed of the mind is so quick. Manomaya kośa. Now, mind we will speak about tomorrow, but a little. As you think, so you are. Yathā dṛṣṭi, tathā sṛṣṭi. What kind of visions do you want to have? What you see and how you create your world according to the visions. We put one object and let a few people look at what they think. Everyone will think differently, with different relations. You put there a beautiful horse. Now someone will talk: "Oh, it's a beautiful, good horse. I love horses." A second says, "Oh, that's very good for riding." Others will say, "It could be a very good racing horse." So everyone has a different relation to that object. So our mind creates another world, and the mind can tell us different things. The mind will tell you, "You are a donkey." You are thinking he is like a donkey. These are all thoughts of the mind. Mano mātra jagataḥ. Mano mātra jagataḥ. What you think, your mind is, you create your world. So the mind makes mistakes. The mind does not take responsibility. The mind creates good things and bad things. The mind creates peace, and the mind creates war. This is a problem. Therefore, the fourth kośa, the quarter of our body: annamaya kośa, the body of nourishment; prāṇamaya kośa, the body of the energy; manomaya kośa, the body of the mind. And what maintains and balances all that is called jñānamaya kośa. Vijñānamaya kośa means knowledge. Above the mind, then, is knowledge, and knowledge will control the mind. When knowledge appears, the mind sits peacefully. Vijñāna. Vijñāna means the science. Science means the sense. So knowledge, there is a sense, tells us this and that. So the knowledge, Vijñānamaya kośa. So when we study, when we learn properly, then we are in the vijñānamaya kośa. Then you can give the definition and practice very balanced and good. Without practice, our theory will not help us so much. Theory is also very good. There is nothing wrong. Theory informs us, inspires us, motivates us—that's it—but practice has to be there. So vijñānamaya kośa: wisdom, knowledge, knower. So the highest samādhi in yoga, what we call the higher consciousness... But the yogīs can go, and I do not know where they want to go. I know where I want to go, because I have my ticket, and I know I will fly there tomorrow. So, where do we want to go and do samādhi? We want to go to God. We become one with God. So what is the higher consciousness, super consciousness, or samādhi, which every yogī is struggling for? Meditation is actually for the samādhi. So samādhi is there where three come together: knowledge, knower, and object. Knowledge, knower, and object: three merge into one. That is samādhi; that is the higher consciousness. Now, I would like to know, what does it mean to know knowledge? What I would like to know is the subject, object. So, as long as I see the object, I am in duality. I have the knowledge, but still, there is distance. Part 2: The Path to Oneness: From Kośas to Consciousness To attain the ultimate state, you must become one with it; you must merge into that oneness. This is the unification of the knower, the knowledge, and the object of knowledge. When these three become one, it is called samādhi. This is achieved through the practice of prāṇāyāma—breath exercises—to bring about citta vṛtti nirodha (the stilling of the mind's fluctuations) and to guide the prāṇa in the body toward the highest level of consciousness. The being is composed of layers, or kośas. These are the annamaya kośa (the sheath of nourishment), the prāṇamaya kośa (the sheath of energy), the manomaya kośa (the mental sheath), and the vijñānamaya kośa (the sheath of intellect or knowledge). The final one is the ānandamaya kośa. Ānanda means bliss. There is nothing beyond this supreme bliss; it is the ultimate state. When we connect to this through the body, it is called the causal body—the cause of everything. Desire, of any kind, is what makes us happy. A child eating ice cream is happy; that is also ānanda. You see a beautiful garden in full bloom and feel very happy; this too is ānanda. But this is limited, temporary happiness. When we pursue this material happiness, it is fleeting and creates new karma. That karma binds us again to the physical body, trapping us in a cycle, going round and round in circles like a blind alley. We must turn away from this. We must develop our ānandamaya kośa into paramānanda, brahmānanda. There is a mantra: "Brahmānandam paramasukhadam kevalam jñānamūrtim." Brahman is that one formless (nirakāra) reality, the entire universe. That Brahman is the highest. You may call it Allah—it has no form, but it is there. Or you may refer to the Holy Father, but that is Brahmā, not Brahman. The Holy Father is the creator: Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Maheśa, the Trinity. This Trinity exists within time; they change and have their own powers and limitations. But above these three is the highest tattva, the guru tattva. What is the guru? "Brahmanandam param sukhadam kevalam jñānamūrtim." That Gurudeva is Brahmananda, the supreme bliss (paramasukhadam), the highest, everlasting joy. "Kevalaṁ jñānamūrtim"—it is not a physical form but the very embodiment of knowledge. This is the clear definition of the Gurudeva, the Guru: a brahmaniṣṭha śrotriya, a knower of Brahman who can inspire and speak about that truth. This guru tattva manifests in a human body. That body should be adored and cared for, like a precious diamond kept in a small box. Imagine two boxes of the same size. One contains five immense, priceless diamonds. The other contains a cobra, scorpions, and such. Their value is utterly different. The pure, crystal-clear diamond represents our good qualities, our knowledge, our clarity. When light comes, you do not need to tell the darkness to leave—it is gone instantly. When the light is off, darkness returns quickly. This is the difference between the guru and the disciple. The guru is one with pure thoughts and qualities—"Brahmanandam param sukhadam," the giver of happiness and joy. But the disciple must follow correctly. A master said, "In everyone is God." A disciple then thought, "So the elephant is God," and expected the elephant to do nothing, or thought of a tiger that might attack, and concluded the master was lying. The master replied, "But the people who warned you—didn't you think God was in them too? God was warning you." This is how to understand the master's word. That master is not involved in prapañca—the worldly conflicts of "he did this, she did that." This is what we call gāśap—senseless, useless talk. The master's state has no duality. It is equal consciousness, like the sky (gagana). Many objects appear in the sky, but the sky itself remains clean, pure, and without difference or crack—"gaganasadṛśyam." When our consciousness, our intellect (vijñānamaya kośa), leads us to that state, then you are God. There is no difference. Whom will you call God? When you still say "there is a God," it is a duality, meaning you are not that one. At that time, as Mahāprabhujī said in his beautiful bhajan: "Maiṁ mera nijāpa hūṁ, tattva masī nirmala." "I am that myself, I am the Self. I am the truth, and nirmala—without any attachment: no anger, no jealousy, no hate, no suffering, nothing. I pray, I adore." To whom do I adore? To myself. Which self? That ātmā. Do not mistake this. If you go home and say, "I am praying to myself," your wife will say, "What? What did Swāmījī tell you today? You are completely confused." Do not think you are that. I also would not dare to say that. But when I turn towards the Ātmā, then who is the doer? "Hume vadhana merī musko hoī kevalaṁ jñānamūrtiṁ dvandhātītaṁ gaganasadṛśyaṁ tasmādyādi lakṣyaṁ." Lakṣya means the aim. That is the aim of all great saints and monks: only one, no two, no duality. Only that one supreme, the highest truth—Ekam. "Brahma satyaṁ jagan mithyā." The highest truth is Brahman; this world is prapañca—quarreling, household affairs (gṛhastha), "he said this, she did that." This worldly life gives us troubles. "Ekam nityam"—the one, the indestructible, the everlasting (nityam). We change every day; one day we die. This microphone is nice, but it has a limit; one day it will be put away. But that supreme Brahman has no container; any container is too small. "Ekam nityam vimalam acalam." Vimal means pure, spotless, crystal clear—free from all blemish (mala), free from karmas. At that level of consciousness, you are doing what you are not doing, eating what you are not eating, sleeping what you are not sleeping. Then we are free from karmas. "Acalam" means immovable; nothing can break it. Everything moves within space, but space itself does not move. That prāṇa leads our consciousness to that highest level if we practice systematically. "Ekam nityam vimalam acalam sarvadhi sākṣibhūtam." At that time, you become the knower of everything, a sākṣibhūtam—you are present in every creature. It is then that the trikuṭī (a center) opens. You become trikāladarśī. "Tri" means three; "kāla" means time. You can see the past, present, and future clearly. You may be sitting here, but if you wish to know who is doing what and where, you have that vision. But if you try to say, "Yes, I see this and that," your vision will vanish. Never use your miracles, your siddhis. As soon as you use them, the power is gone. This is why it is difficult for a master to instruct disciples directly; I must explain in different ways. "Trikāladarśī" is a technique, a kriyā. "Ekam nityam vimalam acalam sarvadhi-sākṣibhūtam bhavatītaṁ triguṇarahitam satgurutam namāmi." "Trigunarahitam"—free from the three guṇas (sattva, rajas, tamas). That is the Satguru, our great master. "Tasmai namaḥ"—I bow down, I adore that divine master. Even Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Śiva adore that guru tattva. So do not think of it so easily. You may say, "I am also a guru"—okay, no problem. You are a guru who repairs cycles, or a guru who plays the harmonium. Everyone has some little knowledge. But the yogic science that brings you to a state of acute awareness, clarity about your being—what is God? What is Brahman?—and where wherever you look, there is only joy and happiness... that is different. And this is connected to prāṇāyāma and prāṇa. Today we received a prāṇāyāma stick. It is called a jādūkā daṇḍa, a "stick of miracles." It has many uses. When meditating and you feel an itch on your back, you can use it to scratch. If you meditate for one or two hours and a neighbor beside you falls asleep, you can gently use it until they notice. If your knee has problems, you can place it for support discreetly. If a Swāmījī is talking too long and you are sitting on a hard floor, you can listen while leaning on it. It helps with balance and posture. It is a magic stick for many things. If a cobra comes during meditation, it will not bite you; after meditation, you might even kiss it! For prāṇāyāma, we support our elbow with it to keep the back very straight, without pain, and the shoulders relaxed. Otherwise, if we practice unsupported, we cannot concentrate well. So, whenever you go to practice yoga, take your yoga daṇḍa with you; it is very useful. Prāṇāyāma follows the āsanas, as the prāṇa awakens. Tomorrow we will practice. But before that, we will learn a little about the nerves. We say prāṇāyāma cleans the nerves. How? If air enters your nerves, you already have problems. When a doctor gives an injection, they ensure no air is in the needle. In prāṇāyāma, it is the purification of the blood through better air, better oxygen. It comes to the lungs, goes to the heart, and is pumped throughout the body. The prāṇa moves as oxygen, cleansing the body and removing dead cells. Modern research confirms prāṇāyāma as a powerful tool, even for purifying cancer cells. Specific techniques involving inhalation through the left or right nostril for certain durations form a beautiful course for particular diseases. We must dedicate time to this practice. We often postpone, saying "tomorrow," but no one has seen tomorrow; it is always today. God has given us the present to be happy and do good now. The science of prāṇāyāma is beautiful and miraculous; it purifies us, our thoughts, nervousness, and many psychic problems, reawakening consciousness. Now, for those with the stick, let us try a practice. Place the index and middle fingers on the eyebrow center. This supports the head so the neck remains without tension. The stick supports the elbow to support the back, just as these fingers support the forehead. With the thumb, gently close the right nostril sideways. Inhale slowly, a little deeper than normal, and exhale slowly through the left nostril. Do this ten times (one inhale-exhale cycle counts as one). Then, use the ring finger to close the left nostril, freeing the right. Inhale and exhale through the right nostril ten times. After ten times, place your hand on the knee, relax, and feel your breath. Keep your eyes closed. Now we will deeply inhale and chant Oṃ three times. Feel the prāṇa and the resonance of the chant through your spine and inner space. When we chant Oṃ, the sound begins at the navel, rises to the vocal cords, goes to the brain, returns to the heart, and spreads through the whole body. Every blood cell resonates. About fifty percent of the sound goes into the space, which we can also hear again. Take a deep inhale. Hold your hands. Rub your palms together and place them over your face. Open your eyes and your palms, and move your hands. Adio.