The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, compiled by the sage Patanjali at least 1,700 years ago, is considered one of the main authoritative texts on the practice and philosophy of yoga. The Yoga Sutras outline the eight limbs of yoga, which teach us the ways in which one can live a yogic life. It also describes the results of a regular, dedicated practice. Yet before any of this, The Yoga Sutras begins by defining the goal of yoga and later goes about describing how one can achieve that goal.

Sutra means “thread,” which describes the relationship of the sutras—they are interrelated, or tied together as if by a thread. Within the Yoga Sutras are 196 aphorisms, short passages that guide the reader through four chapters, or books (padas): Samadhi Pada, which describes the results of yoga practice; Sadhana Pada, which describes the discipline itself; Vibhuti Pada, which describes some of the super-normal effects the practice can have; and Kaivalya Pada, which describes the process of liberation of the ego.

There are countless commentaries available of the Yoga Sutras, many of which are available in English. These range from the dense and philosophical to light and practical—and everything in between.

The first yoga sutra, 1.1, is a simple invocation to begin—and to begin now. Atha yoga anushasanam: Now the instruction of yoga is being made. It is a invitation to begin the study of yoga as you are, in this moment, the only moment that ever really exists. It is one of the most uncomplicated of the yoga sutras, and yet it is so appealing because humans love to begin anew.

On that note, we have complied a series dedicated to the Yoga Sutras that highlights some of our favorite sutras, what they mean, and how they can be applied to modern life. Adding the study of yoga philosophy to a physical practice is a great way to take your yoga off the mat and out into your life. We hope that you enjoy this deeper look at the practice that we have all come to love.

Links to sutras:

Sutra 1.2: Yoga is stilling the fluctuations of the mind. 

Sutra 1.3: Then the seer abides in itself, resting in its true nature. 

Sutra 1.4: Otherwise we identify with the fluctuations.

Sutra 1.14: Practice that is done for a long time, without break and with sincere devotion becomes a firmly rooted, stable, and solid foundation. 

Sutra 1.33: By cultivating attitudes of friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and disregard toward the wicked, the mind-stuff retains its undisturbed calmness.

Sutra 2.46: The yoga posture is a balance between effort and ease–steady, stable, and comfortable. 

Sutra 3.4: The three [dharana, dhyana, and samadhi] as one is called samyama.

Sutra 3.7: These three [dharana, dhyana, and samadhi] are more internal than the preceding limbs

Our most recent exploration of the yoga sutras ends with sutra 3.7, which states, trayam antarangam purvebhyah: These three [dharana, dhyana, and samadhi] are more internal than the preceding limbs. Following last month’s sutra, also focused on the last three limbs of yoga, this sutra refers to the inward focus of dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation), and samadhi (bliss).

Over time, and with practice, the first five limbs of yoga fall away, leaving only an inward practice. No longer does the physical nature of the practice remain in the forefront. Instead, an internal focus overtakes yoga as a whole. This is a gradual shift, and one that is not marked by a specific event. The transformation takes place in such a way that the practitioner realizes that the very nature of the practice has shifted entirely.

This shift marks a change in perspective of one’s true nature—that which is connected to, and one with, all that is. No longer separate from everything that appears to be separate, the practitioner reaches a level of understanding that marks enlightenment, even if glimpsed in moments.

Yoga sutra 3.4 states: trayam ekatra samyama: The three [dharana, dhyana, and samadhi] as one is called samyama. The last three limbs of the eight limbs of yoga are considered those limbs that happen naturally, whereas the first five limbs are actively practiced.

Dharana, or concentration, is the process of fixing the mind on one object. It is about training the mind to stay focused. It takes time, patience, and practice. We could think of it very much like training a puppy to sit still. Dhyana, or meditation, is the sustaining of dharana for a long period of time. As one becomes more proficient at dharana, one moves seamlessly into dhyana.

The last and final limb of the eight limbs, samadhi, is the process of that sustained concentration completely absorbing the concentrator such that the concentrator and the object become one. Together, these three rungs are known as samyama.

Once samyama is achieved, one has full awareness that they are not their body, mind, or anything else physically conceivable. They are also aware that anything they encounter in the physical world is not as it seems. Samyama is a state of enlightenment, and is usually attained after long periods of time spend in meditation.

Yoga sutra 2.29 states, Yama niyamasana pranayama pratyahara dharana dhyana samadhi astau angani: The eight limbs of yoga are: yama (self-regulation), niyama (observances), asana (posture), pranayama (breath control), pratyahara (withdrawal of senses), dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation), and samadhi (bliss).

The eight limbs of yoga establish practical guidelines for the complete practice of yoga. The rungs, or limbs, are designed to be practiced concurrently, not stepwise. Like the limbs of a tree all growing at the same time, the eight limbs of yoga are practiced together. The eight limbs can be separated, however, into those limbs that involve action, and those limbs that are the result, or reaction.

The yamas and niyamas establish the ethical guidelines for self-conduct and conduct with the world around us. They set the backdrop for a more meaningful life and are a daily part of a yogi’s life. Asana, pranayama, and pratyahara are best combined within the context of a physical practice. Postures, along with proper breathing and withdrawal of the senses, help to bring the body and mind into a calmer state so that concentration (dharana) and meditation (dhyana) can arise, leading to, eventually, samadhi, the ultimate state of meditative bliss.

Asana, or the familiar physical posture practice common in the West, is just one rung of this complete practice. When fully integrated, the eight limbs of yoga, also called Ashtanga Yoga and Raja Yoga, prepare us to transcend our suffering and understand our true nature, as experienced in the state of samadhi.

Skipping ahead a few sutras to yoga sutra 1.14, which states, sa tu dirghakala nairantarya satkarasevito drdhabhumih: Practice that is done for a long time, without break and with sincere devotion becomes a firmly rooted, stable, and solid foundation. This is an important aspect of yoga practice—discipline. Showing up to practice on a regular basis without break. The real benefits of the practice are revealed when we dedicate ourselves to the practice long-term.

Have you ever found yourself straying from yoga practice and a voice pops into your head telling you, “I really need to get back to yoga”? Or have you ever begun a meditation practice only to leave it within a few weeks (or days)? You are certainly not alone. Your body and mind know that yoga makes you feel good in so many ways.

But in order to sustain these good feelings, the practice needs to be consistent. Some days you will find a million excuses not to show up to your mat. Show up anyway. Some days you will be too busy to practice. Practice for five minutes anyway.

Start small. Don’t set a huge expectation that you won’t be able to meet. Set a goal to do a few sun salutations every day. Or sit for a five-minute meditation each morning. Some days you will have more time, and your practice will naturally last longer. Other days, a short practice will be enough. More than anything, your commitment to come back to your mat regularly is what will make the most difference.

Building on the first three sutras, yoga sutra 1.4 states, Vritti sarupyam itaratra: When one is not in Self-realization, the Seer takes on the identity of the fluctuations of mind (thought patterns). That is, when we are wrapped up in our thoughts, unable to stay present, we become our thoughts.

This is most easily understood by considering an energetic action. Consider that when you become wrapped up in negative thoughts, those thoughts consume you. Your emotions take on a negative tone. Your words and actions often follow suit. You become the physical manifestation of those thoughts. Likewise, when you become wrapped up in happiness, your emotions, words, and actions follow. While you might think that becoming wrapped up in happiness is a goal, happiness, too, is finite. It comes and goes.

Instead, by not attaching to your mind chatter, you can effectively take a step back and observe them for what they really are—fluctuations. This practice can help you to notice your thoughts, and to notice when you are attaching to your thoughts and getting wrapped up in emotions, words, and actions. By becoming the Seer, or observing these patterns in yourself, you will become less affected by the day-to-day happenings in your life. You will be able to see them with more clarity.

Yoga sutra 1.4 tells us that when we are not in a state of yoga, the mind is attracted by the external world, the root of all suffering. It lays out the consequences of not practicing yoga, as defined in yoga sutra 1.2.

Following up on yoga sutra 1.2 (essentially, yoga is the cessation of mind chatter), yoga sutra 1.3 states, Tada drashtuh svarupevasthanam: then the seer abides in itself, resting in its true nature, also known as self-realization. This sutra explains the ultimate result of yoga—the discovery of one’s true nature.

Once we are able to calm the fluctuations of the mind, our perception of reality becomes clear. No longer clouded with thoughts of the past or the future, reality sharpens and we finally understand our true nature. We recognize our connection to all that is. We recognize that our current state is just as it should be.

What a relief to know that this practice—this work we do on and off the mat to find that place where our minds become quiet and we become more aware—will bring us back to a place where we can finally, and again, realize our being-ness. This shift from doing to being happens gradually (and can also happen at a moment’s notice)—and it has nothing to do with idleness. It is a perceptual shift that changes our very interaction with life and with the people and situations we encounter.

These early sutras help us to understand right away the profound nature of the yoga practice and how it can transform our lives for the better. What better way to begin the book than to inspire us to begin—right now—to practice. This realization is not to be viewed as a far-away, barely obtainable goal. It is within you at this very moment. You have only to uncover it.

You are enough, just as you are. What you do and who you are matters.

In yoga sutra 1.2, the second sutra of book one, Patanjali lays out the definition and purpose of yoga. Yogas citta vrtti nirodhah: yoga is the cessation of the modifications, or fluctuations, of the mind. This sutra gets right to the heart of why we practice yoga. No time is wasted. We learn right away what yoga is and why we practice it, while the rest of book expands on the topic and offers ways to go about calming these modifications of the mind.

So what are modifications of the mind? Simply put, it’s the mind chatter that draws our attention away from the present moment. When you are in yoga class, focusing on your breath while feeling the movement of your body and suddenly you wonder what you’ll have for lunch, or you remember a conversation you need to have with someone, or you look over at the person next to you and wish that your pose looked like hers, your mind is fluctuating—you are no longer present. These are the modifications of the mind that yoga is trying to quiet.

This goal of yoga is simple but not always easy. Our minds are so conditioned to follow thought strands that take us from topic to topic, anywhere but where we currently are. Becoming caught up in our thoughts feels natural to us because we do it almost all the time. Quieting this chatter, using the tools of the yoga practice, can feel almost impossible at times. This is one reason why many people find meditation to be intimidating. “I could never sit still and do nothing,” they say.

But with practice, over time, quieting these fluctuations starts to feel natural, even effortless. Space opens up in our minds as we learn to remain focused on the breath, the body, the moment. And in this space can be planted the seeds of insight—those realizations that bring us closer to our true nature.