(written in
July 2013, published on 7 November 2013 in Bharat-Bharati))
A meeting with like-minded people
Very
recently, I met several yoga initiates who told me of their experiences with ayahuasca, a “plant teacher” which they
regularly took. For me, this was a blast from the past. Thirty or more years
ago, I have taken LSD trips about a dozen times and two mescaline trips. Like a
few friends, but unlike most contemporaries, I saw these psychedelics as a
spiritual way rather than as a form of recreation. Nowadays, the accepted term
would be “Shamanism”, a Siberian-cum-Amerindian tradition involving vision
quests and journeys in the spirit world.
Like many
of my then friends, I quit the scene by age 25. By now, age 53, I was so
completely out of it that I didn’t even think to myself of mind-altering
substances as the explanation for a few strange things I saw about the people
concerned. It was to my surprise that I heard the true story. Since one of them
has wondered in my presence whether to keep on combining regular ayahuasca use
with daily yoga practice, I have given the matter some thought.
Let me
clarify first of all that I am not inclined to moralize about this. Those
people and their motives are so recognizable to me. I am one of them, thirty
years down the line. I also need not go into the medical drawbacks of drug use:
these are together people who are in no direct danger of suffering the
irritability or worse that I have seen in some users. Nonetheless, I am already
showing my hand by adding that if I had remained in this scene, I would never
have achieved what I have achieved now.
One reason
why this revelation surprised me, is that by now I had become firmly convinced
of the power of yoga to make these shortcuts to some kind of zero experience
unnecessary. From Woodstock on down, numerous people have abandoned the drug
scene upon initiation into yoga. As a yoga adept was introducing hippies at
Woodstock to yoga, he explained: “Now the drugs do it for you. Then, you do it
yourself.” On the other hand, I have to admit – and remember only too well –
that there is a grey area of being attracted to both alternatives. When I was
first initiated into Kriya Yoga by Swami Hariharananda and his Dutch assistant
in Amsterdam, more than thirty years ago, I was actually in Amsterdam to buy
drugs. I saw the poster announcing the initiation, went there quite unprepared,
and my life changed profoundly. It still took a few years before I had quit the
drug scene altogether, though. I also learned that the Swami had picked up his
Dutch assistant, who by then had become an accomplished yogi, from the Indian
gutter where he had landed as a drug addict. Once you discover yoga, it mostly
means you choose the exit from the artificial paradise of mind-altering substances.
Patanjali’s definition
As Patañjali’s
classical definition says: yogaścittavṛttinirodhaḥ,
“yoga is the cessation of the motions of the mind”. It is as simple as that. By
contrast, the complicated visions and sensations unleashed by psychedelic drugs
are, as much as our everyday experiences, cases of “motions of the mind”. Yoga
is not about visions and sensations, but about mental silence and peace.
Maybe that
doesn’t sound very adventurous. Drug-taking is only rarely done to “escape from
reality”, as the bourgeoisie thinks. It is mostly done out of adventurousness,
because everyday life is rather boring while spirit journeys challenge your
attention. Also, there is a curiousness for the world beyond that the “plant
teacher” is revealing to you, a warm enthusiasm. So, the abstract proposition
that instead you could opt for a way to silence and peace might seem dull by
comparison. But this changes radically when you meet accomplished yogis, like
Swami X and Swami Y [names withheld as I
don’t want to associate respected people with my controversial self], who
led the retreat where I met the people concerned. There you find and feel that
nothing compares with yogic bliss.
Yoga is a
way of turning inward. The sensations given by ayahuasca are not an external
affair, one that can be seen by outsiders. This might give the impression that
it is comparable to yoga. But by yogic standards, these “inner” sensations
detract as much from pure consciousness as any outward experience would.
Whether you are adventuring outdoors or sitting in your armchair enjoying the
effects of ayahuasca, in both cases your mind is preoccupied with the
sensations you encounter, not with the Self.
Shamanism and Yoga
But am I
not being insulting to the Shamans and the spiritual traditions of their
peoples? Many communities know of no higher state than that achieved with the
help of “plant teachers”. For many thousands of years, varieties of Shamanism
were the main religion of mankind. In China, the revival of openly practised
religion is bringing to the fore Shamanic practices at the popular level, like
people becoming channels for ghosts during exuberant public festivals. Daoism
is in fact an evolved form of Shamanism; when a Daoist priest is ordained, he
is given a list of spirits that he is empowered to command.
In India
too, popular religion still has many
elements of Shamanism, such as ecstatic dancing. The Paraias (in English usually spelt Pariahs, the proverbial untouchables) are a community of
drum-makers and drummers. They use the archetypal Shamanic instrument,
nicknamed “the Shaman’s horse” because it is their vehicle on journeys in the
spirit world, to whip themselves into a Shamanic trance. In that state, they are
consulted for predicting the future. This penchant for the paranormal is still
in evidence in a low-caste Indian community which we are all familiar with: the
Gypsies, whose women are known as fortune tellers.
In recent
centuries, purity-conscious Brahmins used to keep these Shamans at a distance
(and vice-versa) because these were deemed to carry the world of the dead with
them, with which they were known to communicate. However, at a longer distance
in time they were some kind of Shamans themselves. The ninth book of the Ṛg-Veda is devoted to soma, “pressed juice”, the product of an
uncertainly identified plant. The most popular theory identifies it as ephedra
(whence ephedrine, a type of
amphetamine or “speed”), but we are not sure at all. Some modern moralistic Hindus deny that soma
was a plant at all, they say the word soma referred to a yogic state. Others
say it was the fluid state of a metal during the fiery stage of metallurgy. I
am aware of these theories but till now, the “plant teacher” explanation is the
most common and consistent by far. The juice is described as conferring a state
of great clarity, incidentally also a property ascribed to ayahuasca, said to
make its users “see through” situations and other people. Since man wanted to
sacrifice to the gods the very best he had, soma was among the goods thrown
into the fire in order to “feed the gods”; Indra is said to be a great consumer
of soma.
So, with a
little exaggeration: before the Brahmins, heirs of the Vedic seers, became dry
scholars, they were tripping poets getting high on soma juice and composing
drinking carols now known as Vedic hymns. A remnant of it is what I witnessed
when I stayed at Banaras Hindu University during the Night of Shiva (Śivarātrī, an annual festival): very
scholarly professors getting high on bhaṅg,
a cannabis brew. Another remnant is perhaps in evidence in Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtra: whereas the Buddha lists
truth, non-violence, non-stealing, chastity and non-intoxication as his five
basic rules (pañca-sīla), Patañjali’s
list of five basic rules (pañca-yama)
is identical except that it replaces non-intoxication with non-covetousness.
Apparently Patañjali didn’t want to go as far as to categorically forbid
intoxicants. He also admitted that taking drugs is one of the ways to attain siddhis, “achievements”, i.e. special
powers. Especially clairvoyance is said to be an effect of the mental state
conferred by plant teachers. But then, these siddhis only detract from the real goal of yoga.
Till today,
you can see some Sadhus smoking their chillums full of marihuana. But rather than
taking them as role-models, you should be aware that they only exemplify the
freedom which Hinduism grants to its followers. These men can do their thing,
but they are of low rank in the natural hierarchy. Gurus who intoxicate
themselves with alcohol or drugs are not taken seriously. It is a bit like
consuming meat: the majority of Hindus do eat meat, but they venerate
vegetarians and rank them as more virtuous. So, even those who cannot do
without their chillum, do realize that their intoxication is only a phase, and
that they still have a long way to go.
An evolutionary view of yoga
As we have
been taught, according to Mircea Eliade, yoga is an evolute of Shamanism. I am
aware that among many Hindus, this view will not go down very well; nor among
modern Westerners. Hindus will object that yoga is eternal, that the Vedic
hymns were an expression of a yogic state, and that it is blasphemous to derive
yoga from anything else. Westerners, who recently have been taught to approach
every subject with the dogma of equality, will object that this evolutionary
view establishes an inequality: Shamanism is the childhood stage, yoga the
next, more mature stage. Still, I stand by it.
The
ordinary people in India are the same as the people everywhere else, but the
tradition to which they are exposed is – dare I use the word? – superior. The difference is that they
know they have the example of liberated masters living in their midst. For
them, venerable beings are not just talked about in sacred books, they are
alive and nearby. The people may not practise yoga themselves but they know
they can turn to yogis, who radiate the fruits of their meditation to their
surroundings. It simply feels very good to be in their company once in a while.
India is not so great in some respects, but at least it has this cardinal
virtue: whereas people in most places are like orphans left alone, ordinary
Hindus are like children playing in the park while their mother is watching.
Hindus like
to boast that the evolutionary theory is already present in the series of Viṣṇu’s incarnations: fish, tortoise,
boar, man-lion, then a dwarf starting the sequence of human beings. We see in
this system that lower animal species are followed by higher animal species
(fish, reptile, mammal), then half-men and then full men. So, they should make
no problem in applying the evolutionary model to their own tradition. It has
been found that some motifs of the yoga tradition are already known in other,
even reputedly “primitive” cultures. Thus, the practice of meditation was also
known among the Greek Stoics, who sat every morning for “staying in the
present” (i.e. preventing the mind from wandering to memories of past
experiences and plans for the future). The concept of kuṇḍalinī, an energy working its way up the spine, is also applied
in Chinese energy-work (qigong),
where the “microcosmic orbit” (xiaozhoutian)
is practised: the energy is led by the breath/attention upwards along he spine,
then downwards again. But even among the distant cultures of the San (Bushmen)
and the Australian Aborigines, the awareness of the rise of heat in the spine
is known. So, whatever its precise
history in India, kuṇḍalinī yoga is
only a mature form, developed in India, of a reality intuited among a number of
divergent peoples. It is a knowledge that, once developed, people in all
countries can profit from.
Similarly,
the yogic value of non-violence has an interesting prehistory. When eating
animals was abolished, sacrificing animals was eliminated with it. But earlier,
when animals were indeed sacrificed, explanations were constructed why this was
not really slaughter, why it was better for an animal to be sacrificed rather
than just eaten. While some violence was deemed necessary to bring the proper
sacrifices to the gods, the priests were at the same time embarrassed to
inflict this violence on the sacrificial animal. This was but the Indian form
of a phenomenon also witnessed among the Amerindians and other Shamanic
cultures: hunters begging forgiveness from their prey for killing and eating
it. So, Hinduism shares a certain inspiration and outlook with the Shamanic
cultures, but it has taken this a step further: while other cultures still kill
and eat animals eventhough they say sorry, Indians (or at least some
norm-setting classes of Hindus) have
abolished animal-killing altogether and taken to vegetarianism. Admittedly,
India was helped by its climate, which allows for eating vegetables all year
long, whereas natives of Canada or Siberia in their cold climate have had to
await modern times to acquaint themselves with the vegetarian alternative. Even
in this respect, I would venture to utter the S-word: India’s climate is superior.
So, India
has started with a Shamanic culture, preserved much of it, but has gone beyond
it in some respects. This way, experts on the inner life went from “making
spirit journeys” to meditating. They went from drug-induced altered states to
mental stillness. From Shamanism to yoga.
Liberal
Westerners will hold it against you if you dare to see an inequality between
Shamanism and the yoga system. They cherish this new dogma that all worldviews
are equal. And they can get nasty when you posit an inequality between two
worldviews. Well, no matter, for the inequality is real. Children do not go
from primary to secondary school because
they feel like trying something different, but because, in their natural urge
to expand and learn, they understand that secondary school is more advanced. So
also, methodically developing peace of mind is more advanced than conversing
with spirits.
Conclusion
In our
post-Christian society, it was perhaps inevitable that people went back to
pre-Christian cultures to explore Shamanism. It is also a pleasant break from
humdrum existence to have a vision quest, go to a sweat-lodge, dance sky-clad
in the forest under the full moon, spend the night lying in your own grave, and
indeed take ayahuasca. But now we have to move on.
Ken Kesey,
the writer of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s
Nest as well as an LSD pioneer, was arrested after the state of California
outlawed the use of LSD. According to Tom Wolfe, who wrote a book about Kesey’s
exploits (The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test),
he was allowed to shorten his incarceration in exchange for giving a speech on
TV explaining to his followers why the LSD experiment had lasted long enough.
He said that LSD had functioned as a door, an exit from the highly conditioned
existence in bourgeois society. But once you have opened the door, you don’t
stay there to play with it. You go in. And so, he told his audience, it is time
to leave the door behind, to throw away the ladder that brought us up, and to
go beyond.
Well, if he
didn’t say that, at least he should have said it. I am at any rate willing to
repeat it. To the people concerned, my message would be: I love you, I even
understand you, but you would be wise to move on. Especially now that you have
such a promising alternative.