dfr1973: (Default)
 Also from chapter two, The First Steps, Swami Vivekananda introduces the topic of pranayama - usually translated as "breath control" - and tells an interesting little parable that likely applies to more than just pranayama.
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Returning to our subject, we come next to Prâṇâyâma, controlling the breathing. What has that to do with concentrating the powers of the mind? Breath is like the fly‑wheel of this machine. In a big engine you find the fly‑wheel  first moving, and that motion is conveyed to finer and finer machinery, until the most delicate and finest mechanism in the machine is in motion in accordance. This breath is that fly‑wheel, supplying and regulating the motive power to everything in this body.

There was once a minister to a great king. He fell into disgrace, and the king as a punishment, ordered him to be shut up in the top of a very high tower. This was done, and the minister was left there to perish. He had a faithful wife, however, and at night she came to the tower and called to her husband at the top to know what she could do to help him. He told her to return to the tower the following night and bring with her a long rope, a stout twine, a pack thread, a silken thread, a beetle, and a little honey. Wondering much, the good wife obeyed her husband, and brought him the desired articles. The husband directed her to attach the silken thread firmly to the beetle, then to smear his horns with a drop of honey, and to set him free on the wall of the tower, with his head pointing upwards. She obeyed all these instructions, and the beetle started on his long journey. Smelling the honey before him he slowly crept onwards and onwards, in the hope of reaching it, until at last he reached the top of the tower, when the minister grasped the beetle, and got possession of the silken thread. He told his wife to tie the other end to the pack thread, and after he had drawn up the pack thread, he repeated the process with the stout twine, and lastly with the rope. Then the rest was easy. The minister descended from the tower by means of the rope, and made his escape. In this body of ours the breath motion is the “silken thread,” and laying hold of that, and learning to control it we grasp the pack thread of the nerve currents, and from these the stout twine of our thoughts, and lastly the rope of Prâṇa, controlling which we reach freedom.
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I like Swami Vivekananda's illustrative metaphors - then again, I have replaced a transmission and helped attach it to the flywheel.
dfr1973: (Default)
 I'll be referring back to this later when I get into William Walker Atkinson's A Series of Lessons in Raja Yoga again.  This is from chapter two, "The First Steps," in Swami Vivekananda's Raja Yoga:
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A god and a demon went to learn about the Self from a great sage. They studied with him for a long time, and at last the sage told them, “Thou thyself art the being thou art seeking.” Both of them thought that their bodies were the Self. “We have got everything,” they said, and both of them returned to their people and said, “We have learned everything that is to be learned; eat, drink, and be merry;  we are the Self; there is nothing beyond us.” The nature of the demon was ignorant, clouded, so he never inquired any further, but was perfectly satisfied with the idea that he was God, that by the Self was meant the body. But the god had a purer nature. He at first committed the mistake of thinking, “I, this body, am Brahman, so keep it strong and in health, and well‑dressed, and give it all sorts of bodily enjoyments.” But, in a few days, he found out that this could not be the meaning of the sage, their master; there must be something higher. So he came back and said, “Sir, did you teach me that this body is the Self? If so, I see all bodies die; the Self cannot die.” The sage said, “Find it out; thou art That.” Then the god thought that the vital forces which work the body were what the sage meant. But, after a time, he found that if he ate, these vital forces remained strong, but, if he starved, they became weak. The god then went back to the sage and said, “Sir, do you mean that the vital forces are the Self?” The sage said, “Find out for yourself; thou art That.” The god returned once more, and thought that it was the mind; perhaps that is the Self. But in a few days he reflected that thoughts are so various; now good, now bad; the mind is too changeable to be the Self. He went back to the sage and said, “Sir, I do not think that the mind is the Self; did you mean that?” “No,” replied the sage, “thou art That; find out for yourself.” The god went back, and, at last, found that he was the Self, beyond all thought; One, without birth or death, whom the sword cannot pierce, or the fire burn, whom the air cannot dry, or the water melt, the beginningless and birthless, the immovable, the intangible, the omniscient, the omnipotent Being, and that it was neither the body nor the mind, but beyond them all. So he was satisfied, but the poor demon did not get the truth, owing to his fondness for the body.
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I'll be posting a couple more stories, each individual.

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