Foundations of Yoga Culture: Vedic Methodology and McClain’s Musicology

by Tom Affatigato

From the time of the composition of the Rg Veda to the formulation of the Yoga Sutra, there elapsed at least 2000 years. Yet there is a thread of continuity which connects the primal Vedic hymns with the aphoristic statements of Patanjali. In this study, the connection between these traditions will be explored through a three-fold process. First, we will examine India’s most ancient philosophic-religious text, the Rg Veda, as interpreted by Antonio T. deNicolas. Second, and as an extension of our Vedic exploration, we shall discuss Ernest G. McClain’s work in ancient acoustics theory as an interpretive device for understanding the Rg Veda. Lastly, we will attempt to show how these explorations relate to sutras 2-5, the four foundational sutras of Patanjali’s yoga, in the first book (Samadhi Pada) of the Yoga Sutra. In short, we will be systematically reconstructing the umbilical cord which connects the Rg Veda to one of its progeny, the Yoga Sutra.

As previously stated, the Rg Veda is the seminal text which has given rise to the most philosophic and religious works of India. By comparison, the Rg Veda seems far more cryptic and difficult to understand than later works such as the Upanisads, the Bhagavad Gita, the Samkhya Karika, and the Yoga Sutra. It is odd that the Rg Veda, so fundamental a text in Indian culture, is sometimes shunned as being irrelevent in light of “authentic” philosophic study or religious practice. In A Source Book in Indian Philosophy, Radhakrishman and Moore give some common interpretations of the Rg Veda: “They have been referred to as primeval child-like prayers, as the allegorical representation of the attributes of the Supreme Deity, as sacrificial compositions of a primitive race which attached great importance to ceremonial rites, as altogether allegorical, or as somewhat naturalistic.”1 In his book Meditations Through the Rg Veda, Antonio T. de Nicolas makes no such claims and suggests that interpretations such as these are possible only if we ignore the historical context/background from which the Vedic chants emerge. Some have tried, at times forcibly, to find some meaning in the Rg Veda by reading through western eyes. De Nicolas states that “we must be cautious that the ‘intentionality’ we are riding is the same one that the kavis and rsis (the philosopher-singers) of the Rg Veda straddled.”2 We must be careful not to stray from Vedic intentionality and carelessly adopt our own. Such an act might render the Vedic text useless or “mystical” at best. How then are we to make sense of the Vedic world where gods and demons battle endlessly, and sacrifices are continuously offered? Also, and perhaps strangest of all, why the incessant numbering of offspring, cattle, wheels, chariots, and the like?

THE FOUR VEDIC LANGUAGES

De Nicolas begins his interpretation of the Vedic world by disclosing four languages, or more appropriately, viewpoints by which the chants gain meaning. The four intentional languages are: asat (non-existence), sat (existence), yajna (images and sacrifice), and rta dhih (embodied vision).

. . .these four languages function as four spaces of discourse, or four ways of viewing the world within which human action takes place and from which any statement in the text gains meaning. The languages of Non-existence, Existence, and Images and Sacrifice show the human situation within certain disparate linguistic contexts embodying different ways of viewing the world.3

The four languages form the structure within which the activity of any Vedic god, demon, or hero finds meaning and purpose, and function for us as a kind of “Rosetta Stone” with which we can decipher the perplexing Vedic text.

We begin with asat, the language of non-existence. “The Rg Veda calls the whole undifferentiated primordial chaos the asat and states that sat (existence) comes from asat.”4 Using more familiar terms, order proceeds from chaos in the Rg Veda. It is crucial to point out that this process is not “natural,” that is, beyond human mediation. The chaos and order described by the composers of the Veda are not at all the same chaos and order spoken of as external or objective by the astrophysicist, but are components of human experience. This is perhaps the most important aspect of our Vedic study. Vedic chant 10.129.4 states:

In the beginning there was desire,
Which was the primal germ of the mind;
The sages searching in their own hearts with wisdom
Found in non-existence (asat) the kin of existence (sat).5

“The beginning” for a rsi (sage) is not at all the same as it is for an astrophysicist. For the latter, the emergence of order is gradually unfolding process, occurring along a linear stretch of uni-directional time, and in three-dimensional space; hence arises the term “Evolution,” with all of its ramifications. For the Vedic rsi, order emerges from a field of possibilities as the result of human need or intentionality; a change in intention results in a corresponding change in the perceived order. Vedic cosmology and cosmogony are expressions of human intent and desire. Time and space in this model are not absolute or fixed, but arise and function exclusively within experience. These two perspectives, Vedic and scientific, presuppose entirely different ways of understanding human life and the human body.

Asat and sat represent two opposite yet interdependent aspects of Vedic life, the former being the potential or reservoir for any human embodiment, which is the latter. Here the word ‘embodiment’ should be taken to mean the lived sensorium or “world at large.” It is the vital reality which is always in front of us and not simply theory. Through the “remembrance” of asat we retain a connecting link to our source of creating, enabling us to create anew and revitalized experience. For the rsi, chanting is the means for this remembrance. If we now go back to our prior discussion on chaos and order, we see that in a Vedic context, chaos is undifferentiated human potential, and order is the actualization of possibility. Later we shall see the actualization of a body/world was never a finality as it has been for us in the West. Finality implies singularity. The theoretical physicist, biologist, psychologist, etc., strives hard to prove a hypothesis by which all things are explained, predicted and controlled. The unified field theory of Einstein is an attempt at such an all encompassing theory. We are not so much concerned here about absolute theories, but with the absolute embodiments that result from them. The undertaking of psychology is for the purpose of finding the ideal blueprint by which we may clearly define and categorize human experience; again, a theory for all times, places, peoples, etc. The primary “lesson” of the Rg Veda is the antithesis of this tendency to absolutize. It acknowledges no final body/interpretation, but instead “keeps the door open” to any and all ways of “imagining” the human body. We shall find out why this was so in our discussion of the third Vedic language yajna or sacrifice. For now let us reiterate that asat is the “field” or primary condition from which interpretation emerges. De Nicolas offers a further definition of asat:

The asat is an attitude certain people take which, through dogmatic conceptualization, becomes an impediment for human development… It is the “discourse” which certain humans take to manifest themselves in ignorance of their origins and of others; that is, certain humans share the vrtra [dragon] attitude of covering up possibilities, by dogmatizing certain theoretical conceptual schemes, thus depriving man of the possibility of returning to his origin and that of others.6

The Spanish philosopher Ortega y Gasset speaks of a similar process:

[We] ordinarily live installed, too safely installed, within the security of our habitual, inherited topical ideas, until we become accustomed to taking them for reality itself; the result is that we do not understand even our own ideas, but think them, in vacuo, without proof.7

Hopefully the above quotes will serve to expand our understanding of asat. Asat, is two-fold: it is simultaneously the source and the concealer of possibility. 

It may help us further in our understanding of asat and sat to examine the Vedic imagery connected with the two. In the Rg Veda, asat and sat are personified as gods, goddesses, and demons. These beings are analogues or metaphors for the modes of experience. In the Rg Veda, asat (chaos) is personified by various demons of which the most prominent is Vrtra the dragon. A dragon is certainly a poignant representation of chaos or concealment. He is said to dwell in dark places such as caves and in mountains, and is sometimes depicted as having many heads, suggesting confusion and lack of differentiation. He is the perfect analogue for the concealment of human possibility.

In the beginning, there were the Waters restrained within a shell, personified by the wicked Vrtra, ‘the Encloser’. A natural force of expansion existed personified by Varuna; but Vrtra, the power of restraint was greater.8

The image of water is used frequently throughout the Rg Veda; it is either flowing freely as in rivers or rain, or it is restrained and associated with a dragon or serpent. Let us assume for now that “water” symbolizes human possibility. “Waters in restraint” is the inability to recreate anew, a dogmatic attitude which yearns for release or “expansion,” to flow once again. One who is unable to “go with the flow” is trapped within the dragon’s domain, the realm of chaos. All this may sound rather fantasy-like and suggestive of old movies depicting ancient Greek myths. However, it is important to keep in mind that Vedic imagery, no matter how seemingly odd, can be applied to concrete human circumstance. He who has adopted a “Vrtra attitude” is “struck” on seeing and feeling human life in a very restricted way. In Vrtra’s field we are caught within what the rsis call nirrti (inaction). We are unable to renew and revitalize our existence because we are inexorably bent on seeing it in a certain way. In short we are unable to act freely or spontaneously; we feel trapped or stifled and our ability to create anew becomes snuffed. In this mode of being we continually relive past tendencies and habits so life seems “old.” We yearn for liberation, to let the waters flow free again.

Enter the hero of our story, Indra, the personification of existence (sat). It is no wonder that Indra is the hero of the Rg Veda. He is the Vedic analogue for the activity of creation. His activity denies the tendency to concretize any one possibility – he is Vrtra’s slayer, the opener of floodgates. Rg Veda 1:32 states:

  1. Let me now sing the heroic deeds of Indra, the first that the thunderbolt wielder performed. He killed the dragon and pierced an opening for the waters; he split open the bellies of mountains.
  2. He killed the dragon who lay upon the mountain; Tvastr fashioned the roaring thunderbolt for him. Like lowing calves, the flowing waters rushed straight down to the sea.
  3. . . .Indra the generous seized his thunderbolt to hurl it as a weapon; he killed the firstborn of dragons.
  4. Our songs have praised Indra who rules by his might. His gifts flow a thousand-fold and even more abundantly.9

The image of Indra slaying Vrtra is prevalent throughout the Rg Veda. In existential terms, it symbolizes the victory of creativity over dogmatism; sat over asat respectively.10

The rsi who gains “Indra power” is endowed with the ability to continually renew his life. In Christian terms, perhaps this is the true meaning of being “born again,” not simply as the rebirth of a new belief, but as the rebirth of a new way to see and feel one’s life. Perhaps many of us feel this “rebirth” only when extreme circumstances befall us such as life and death situations, the sudden alleviation of great mental or physical pain, or freedom from some form of imprisonment. In these cases we feel a momentary shift of perspective or new way of feeling. We may notice things we never had before or “begin” to live life as if it were given to us anew, as if we were suddenly cleansed. Adverse situations supply us with a “shock” such that the old structures which we took for granted suddenly take on new significance. Invariably, however, we again begin to tire of these new sensations and take life for granted once more; each day becomes more or less a repetition of the one before, or even worse, we return to our “old ways.” This dilemma brings us to the third language of the Rg Veda, yajna, the language of Images and Sacrifice.

Renewal is by definition a continuous act, for that which is new eventually becomes old and “stagnant,” to extend our Vedic water metaphor. For the rsis, the revitalization of creative action through sacrifice had special importance. In the Rg Veda, the death of Vrtra was not accomplished in one final act. Passage 8.89.3 states: “Let one who has killed Vrtra once keep doing it again.”11 The rsis were fully aware that any structure through which they interpreted life had the tendency to lose its vitality.  Structure arises through the need to orient oneself, or a community, in the face of circumstance or crisis. However, the needs of any individual or community change, rendering any structure obsolete, no matter how effective it may have been. For verification of this fact, one need only skim through any comprehensive history text. In doing so we realize that the face of every culture has changed, and no matter how great an empire or civilization was, all were subject to inevitable decay. Old structures lose their meaning and no longer apply to present problems. This is a critical and dangerous point in the development of any culture or individual, for it is then that dogmatic action could easily replace creativity.

An order (sat), once established, proliferates into an infinitude of meanings, forms, categories, and relationships. Diversity and specialization often lead away from points of origin. For example, the continued specialization of the natural sciences automatically takes for granted the basic presuppositions and methods upon which science was founded. The creators of the scientific world-view felt a need for its creation and were wholeheartedly involved in its synthesis from the start. In short, at one time the evolution of science served its creators as a much needed vehicle to find an orientation to an otherwise hostile Medieval universe. This basic orientation had become so culturally sedimentated that the individual lost any ability to create an alternate orientation to meet a new crisis. The failure of countless individuals in contemporary society to remedy their most disturbing problems is the net result of this appeal to collective presuppositions. Of this dilemma Ortega y Gasset states:

. . .in short, the culture, which in its origin, in its own moment of genuineness was simple, becomes complicated. This complication of the inherited culture thickens the screen between each man’s self and the things that surround him. Bit by bit his life becomes less his own and more the collective life.12

Immersion in the “collective life,” the life of “the people,” robs the individual of a creative role. Our gaze is cast outward towards the ensuing masses for the resolution of life’s problems; we merely accept their solutions without question. On a microcosmic scale individuals feel disoriented and confused, while on a macrocosmic scale chaos and corruption abide. Despair is the order of the day and cultural decay and collapse loom on the horizon. Once again the dragon rears its nasty head.

What has all this to do with sacrifice? Sacrifice is the intended reintegration of any way we hold in viewing our life, in order that we may adopt another view. However, this is not the final goal. Simply adopting another viewpoint or embodiment is not enough. The ultimate purpose of sacrifice is to preserve multiplicity and unity through the realization that to be fully human is to be able to embody any and all perspectives.

For its innovation and continuity, the human body needs, not only to sing itself constantly through multiple perspectives, but it must also be aware that no perspective cuts the path of the song from going all the way of the circle to its radical, originating power. In the Rg Veda, the image of the sacrifice stands for this activity of eternal return; and this is the path the Vedic seers chose for themselves, their society, their total cultural body.13

If we allow any one “song” to reign predominant we have given up our freedom in its most radical sense, the freedom to sing many songs and thus many bodies.

In the Rg Veda, asat (dogma) was overcome by sat through the activity of yajna (sacrifice). If sacrifice did not ensue, old and stifling structures would remain intact; the sacrifice of an old structure occasions the birth of a new one. Therefore sat and yajna are inextricably linked. Vedic man was ideally a cultivator of radical sacrifice. If he were not, given the fact that that period of Indian history contained a plurality of diverse viewpoints, cultural dissolution would have been imminent. Sacrificing the tendency towards making one system absolute, be it religious, philosophical, political, etc., ensured cultural continuity and creativity.

  1. You take possession, Powerful Agni,
    Of all that is precious for your friend.
    As you are kindled at the Sacrifice,
    Bring us all wealth.
  1. Come together! Speak together!
    Let your minds be in harmony.
    As the gods of old together
    Sat in harmony for their share of the Sacrifice.
  1. Common is the counsel, common the assembly,
    Common the mind; let your thoughts be common too.
    I lay before you a common purpose,
    With united minds we offer the Sacrifice.
  1. Let your aim be one and single;
    Let your hearts be joined in one;
    Let your mind too be united,
    Let all, about these, willingly agree.14

The singularity and unification of intent spoken of above is the radical body of man prior to and underlying plurality and diversification. It is the origin of all particulars. The activities of Agni and Indra are reciprocal. Sacrifice is creation and vice-versa. One ensures the other.

Rta-dhih, the fourth Vedic language, is that intentionality which sustains the three-fold process discussed above. The continued three-fold movement from non-existence (asat), to existence (sat), and back through sacrifice (yajna), is rta-dhih or embodied vision. It is the recognition that man is not absolutely any one viewpoint, but is radically any and all viewpoints. History is filled with numerous occurrences of bloodshed due to the fact that certain individuals believed that their way was the only way. Cultural or individual crisis compels us to act. In a negative sense, crisis instills the feeling of total confusion because the old, relied-upon structure is collapsing (as exemplified in chapter one of the Bhagavad Gita). During periods of cultural or individual crisis one does not know how to act; preservation of rta-dhih was for the purpose of avoiding cultural crisis in the negative sense.

It is important to keep in mind that during the period of Indian history when the Rg Veda was composed there were numerous clans, tribes or families, each with its own representative deity or deities. Within the framework of such multiplicity, cultural abrasions were imminent. Adherence to any one deity, or interpretation of life for that matter, would have resulted in cultural stagnation, decay and downfall.

De Nicolas states that rta-dhih is “the embodiment of effective viewpoints (dhih) in a common body or norm (rta) in such a way as to establish universal laws for practical action (satya).”15 The effective viewpoints referred to above are those which preserve the four-fold interpretive structure for the purpose of integrating cultural disparities and thereby avoiding cultural crisis. The most important of these universal laws for Vedic man was the preservation of rta-dhih.

ANCIENT ACOUSTICS THEORY AND THE VEDIC MODEL

In the beginning there was tone. This is the most important clue to bear in mind in our effort to understand the Rg Vedic conception and use of Language and of languages. The whole of the Rg Veda is chanted. It is not prose; it is not poetry; rather, it is chant, close to music, in its form. . . .So unless we discover the basic tone-structure of the hymns, their meaning will elude us.16

Ernest G. McClain, in his book The Myth of Invariance, shows us in detail how the numbers found in the Rg Veda (and various other ancient texts) pertain to the structuring of sound. Said another way, the numbers are an ancient form of acoustics theory, forming a model based on sound and music. Why acoustics theory? There are several reasons. First, the building and tuning of musical instruments was perhaps the first of human technologies. Technologies usually involve calculation and notation of some kind so that certain acts can be memorized and repeated. Instrument building, and especially tuning, rely heavily on calculation. These activities were probably the first connections between abstract numbers and concrete musical experience. Man discovered at some point that the intervals between tones could be defined by using exclusive numerical ratios of 1:2, 2:3, 3:4, 4:5, and 5:6. These ratios were the most common and were used to divide and multiply string and pipe lengths on musical instruments. All ancient scales and tunings (barring a few unusual examples) utilized the above ratios. A brief explanation of how this was achieved is as follows: if a plucked string of any given length is halved or doubled in length and plucked again, the derived tone will sound an octave higher or lower, respectively, than the original. The two string lengths when set in comparison are defined by the numerical ratio 1:2. Tuning any two strings according to this formula yields the same aural experience, the sound of an octave, or one tone exactly half or double the frequency of the other. McClain says of early civilizations: “In this sea of restless change, man discovered an island he could trust, the octave matrix 1:2 – ‘the basic miracle of music.’”17 The remaining ratios 2:3, 3:4, 4:5, and 5:6, produce the musical intervals of a perfect fifth, perfect fourth, major third, and minor third respectively. The octave matrix, the largest musical interval, functions as a “container” or “womb” for the smaller musical intervals. These smaller intervals were used in a variety of ways to “chop up” the octave “space” into a multitude of tunings. The octave frame could be divided in any way the ancient imagination devised, as long as the above ratios were used. Other ratios would only serve to confuse matters. Besides, the above five ratios are inexhaustive in generating musical scales.

What has all this to do with the Rg Veda? The activities of all the gods, demons, and heroes are performed and expressed according to the unfolding of this musical scheme. It is well beyond the scope of this paper to give a detailed account of ancient tuning theory, and, given this, it is perhaps difficult for the reader to understand how the gods of the Rg Veda relate to acoustics theory. But, let it be said that various aspects of the above stated tuning scheme, if personified, yield the following: chaos, order, the need for heroes, the need for sacrifice, demons, the need for a mother or womb, a father, sons and daughters, unity, multiplicity, the need for limitation, etc. In short, ancient acoustics theory, or the science of sound and silence, could describe any aspect of human existence in the Vedic world. Music, and not, for example biology or physics, was the model for the Vedic interpretation of human experience. McClain’s discoveries reveal an unimagined elegance and sophistication in how the musical model was employed. This not only applies to Vedic culture but many other cultures as well. We will now briefly relate this musical scheme to the four languages.

Let us begin by describing in musical terms the condition of asat. Asat was defined as being the source of all existence, the concealer of human possibilities, and as silence. Musically, the source of all scales, notes, tuning schemes, etc., is the pitch continuum. Experientially, the pitch continuum is white noise, the simultaneous sounding of all possible notes (which are infinite), and a siren as in the instance when the pitch continuum is scanned slowly in ascent or descent. In both conditions, discrete pitches or tones cannot be distinguished; hence, “chaos.” This chaos is the “reservoir” (relating back to our water imagery) for the emergence of any discrete pitch and tuning system, and thus the image in the musical model is the unplucked string. Vrtra, the dragon, was the symbol for this pitch continuum. It was from his body, when cut by Indra, that creation was brought about. Aurally, the slicing of the pitch continuum at any arbitrary point yields a tone, and this tone becomes, as it were, the progenitor and “center” of an ordered musical system. It is from this root tone that a whole tuning scheme unfolds using the above stated intervals. In a sense this original tone is the ONE or father from which the manifold emerges. This manifold “existence” is described in the Rg Veda as the creation of offspring, gods, animals and the like. Most importantly for our study these creations are numbered. Decoding these numbers according to McClain’s interpretation yields specific ways of ordering sound, i.e. tuning schemes. Scales or tuning systems are appropriately defined via the language of sat.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of McClain’s Vedic study involves the language of sacrifice (yajna). In the tuning of musical scales, limitation is of critical importance. Recall that the process of tuning requires a systematic “chopping up” of the octave space using intervals of fifths, fourths, and thirds. This involves careful calculation. Musical scales require symmetry; otherwise their memorization and, more importantly, utilization in performance would be impossible. If we break up the octave space into too many “fragments,” we get “leftovers.” These leftovers, or commas, as they are called, are small musical intervals of no value in a musical scale. If we do not limit ourselves to a certain number of tones in any tuning system, be it Pythagorean (using fifths and fourths), or “just” (using fifths and thirds) these commas will arise. The more tones we use in our scales, the more commas will arise. What have commas to do with the Vedic notion of sacrifice? Quite simply, commas represent disorder. Any method of tuning which involves the use of rational numbers 1, 2, 3, etc., in its expansion, will eventually reveal discrepancies or commas. No system is perfect. There are two ways in which we can approach the imperfections involved. Negatively, we can devise a system which closes the “gaps” by artificial means such as irrational numbers; this does away which commas entirely. Positively, we can acknowledge the imperfection of any system as the necessary condition which facilitates sacrifice. The former makes one system primary, and excludes all others, and for us here in the West, that system is equal temperament. The latter admits a variety of tuning variations thereby creating a musical multiplicity; we sacrifice one tuning so that another can “live.” The imperfections of any tuning becomes the reason for its sacrifice, and so we must begin again by unfolding another system. Let us remember that for the Vedic people music was the model for describing experience. They were not concerned with the theoretical elaboration of tuning theory but with the existential lessons that tuning suggests. Equal temperament is far from being an accurate model for experience because life is not perfect. We confront crisis continually. In our attempt to deal with crisis, no matter what its form, we either fortify the reality of crisis by running from it, or we seek to move through it by changing the way we look at it. The latter is sacrifice. We sacrifice our old way of seeing, and in this the problem dissolves. In terms of music, ancient tuning theory shows us that imperfection is a necessary condition for re-creation.

YOGA AND ITS RELATION TO THE RG VEDA

In light of the above material we can now examine the following sequence from the Yoga Sutra:

I-2. Yoga is the cessation of thought waves (vrtti).

I-3. Then the purusa [the One] abides in its own form.

I-4. At other times it (purusa) takes the form of the thought waves (vrtti).

I-5. Vrttis are five in number and are hindered (klista), or unhindered (aklista).

Let us examine briefly the above sequence in light of De Nicolas’ four-fold language scheme. Sutra two illustrates the purpose of Yoga as sacrifice; Sutra three is the realization (dhih) that differentiation or manifestation is not absolute in that when purusa is realized, all particularities and thoughts are undermined; Sutra four illustrates re-emergence from the vision into particularization, a reacceptance of manifest order; and Sutra five discloses the effects of particularization, to perpetuate hindered self-nature (asmita) or to lead one, unhindered, back to liberation (kaivalyam). The following quote from Meditations Through the Rg Veda might be helpful to illustrate the purpose of Sutra two and how it relates to sacrifice in a Vedic sense:

A. The original unity and power became fragmented into a multiplicity of images, living gods and living dragons: autonomous bodies, human, divine, or animal.

B. Each and every one of these autonomous bodies becomes, in the Rg Veda, the space for multiple human embodiments, where the human body shares its dimensions with these autonomous spaces.

C. The reconciliation between an original source, which is one and indivisible, and the plurality and discontinuity of the autonomous images and spaces of the language of sat . . .is brought about through the larger, all-controlling, image and language of Sacrifice.18 

This reconciliation between source (oneness or unity) and plurality as stated in “c” above, is the purpose of Yoga as defined by Sutra two. Yoga, which may in a Vedic sense be interpreted as sacrifice, is the suppression of mental modifications, more simply designated as thought. This suppression is not to be conceived of in a negative or nihilistic sense, nor is it to be construed as an end or finality. One does not stop thoughts and then continue to live free of them. The relentless flow of thought is, through yogic practice, stopped momentarily for the purpose of realizing unity of purusa. For the yogi, it is thought which separates and disperses, necessarily as we shall see. The unity which the yogi strives for is a felt unity having little to do with cognitive thought. The perceiver and the perceived are not separate; they are experience ceases. When preoccupied with thought, this connection is not apparent.

Yoga is the momentary cessation, or non-absolutization, of a particular way of thinking or feeling. This activity is no less than sacrifice in the Vedic sense, because it puts us in touch with the ground of possibility, the asat. The perspective of purusa takes place upon the cessation of thoughts (vrtti), then, as Sutra three states, purusa resides in its own form. The “own-form” of the purusa is the antithesis of differentiation, i.e., thought. From the perspective of purusa there is a simultaneous negation and affirmation of any way of seeing, any embodiment, because manifestation proceeds from unity (purusa) and dissolves into unity. When purusa takes the form of the vrttis (thought), as stated in Sutra four, unity becomes fragmented and differentiation ensues. Again, in Vedic metaphor, this differentiation is expressed as the creation of world order and the pantheon from Vrtra’s body, or from Agni, chief god of the sacrifice. The process is continued and refined so that the yoga practitioner becomes adept at moving either way, towards manifestation or dissolution. Embodiments are taken on and shed continually. Recall Rg Veda 8.89.3 quoted previously, “Let one who has killed Vrtra keep doing it again.” Seen in this light, the technical explication of yoga practice by Patanjali is no different than the metaphorical interplay of characters (gods, heroes and demons) in the Rg Veda.

Sutra five, indicating that thoughts are either hindered or unhindered, has far reaching moral and social implications. Culture, by definition, implies order; a hierarchy of categories and relationships proliferate as necessary components of culture. In Vedic terms, this proliferation is expressed via the language of sat (existence). We must live in sat, but how do we live? According to Sutra five there are two ways. Acting in a world implies the activity of thinking, and thought functions in two ways: thoughts (vrttis) are hindered (klista) and lead away from unity thereby perpetuating themselves or, they lead us to the doorstep of the vision (samadhi) when unhindered (aklista). In the latter, thought becomes a tool for attaining samadhi. For the yogi, thought has no substance or inherent self nature, nor does thought refer to substances or independently existing objects. Thought, if channeled properly, becomes the vehicle for the integration and disintegration of embodiment. Thought leads towards and away from unity, but must never be mistaken for unity itself. Unhindered (aklista) vrttis are fostered through the yogic practice of abstinences and observances (yama and niyama). The yogin actually generates and nurtures thoughts of an unhindered nature through especially prescribed acts of abstention and observance. It is beyond the purpose of this essay to discuss in detail the operation or application of these techniques, but they relate directly to the continuation of the rta, the fourth of the Vedic languages examined earlier. Thoughts have the potential to insure continued recognition or origins, thereby fostering renewed creativity. Furthermore, the Vedic conception of rta (law or norm) admits diversity on both the individual and the social level. Differences amongst members of society were not leveled to attain unity conceived of as sameness; authentic unity is in fact the integration and allowance of all variation through continued application of Yoga.

THE MUSICAL MODEL AS IT RELATES TO YOGA

Keeping in mind our Vedic/acoustic analysis we can unfold a variety of Yogic analogues. All the tones comprising any ancient scale are derived directly or indirectly from the root tone, the ground string, the One. All musical intervals and subsequent tones which they produce are merely divisions or multiplications of this root. In a sense then, the root tone “fathers” or brings to birth a whole musical scale. Expressing the above in Yogic terms, we see that it is purusa, unity, which becomes subdivided into the infinite particulars or manifestation. This is accomplished via the power (sakti) of prakrti. Purusa is the One while the manifestations of prakrti are the many. In musical terms, purusa can be referred to as the root tone while prakrti is representation of the whole musical scale, the divisions of the root tone. Reciprocally, all tones depend on the root for their identity, while the root depends on the many as derivations of its expressive power.

As a musical scale grows out of its root, more and more tones are generated. Most ancient scales, be they Pythagorean or Just, derived seven tones ascending and seven tones descending, not including the root. Analogously, according to the Samkhya Karika (verse 63), prakrti binds herself by herself by means of seven forms, and releases herself by means of one form, knowledge (jnana). It might be said that this release is accomplished through direct knowledge of purusa the realization of the One as opposed to preoccupation with the many.

Prakrti manifests through the agency of the three gunas: sattva (illumination), rajas (acitivity), and tamas (inertia). It is the interaction of the three gunas which brings about the various modes of existence, i.e., experience. The relationship of prakrti to the three gunas can also be expressed in musical terms. All musical scales are generated from the root through three powers; the power of two which creates octaves, the power of three which creates fourths and fifths, and the power of five which creates major and minor thirds. These were the only intervals the ancients needed to derive any musical scale.

The One requires another for manifestation just as purusa requires prakrti. Prakrti, however, remains unmanifest until the three gunas proliferate. The power of two represents prakrti in that it creates the octave, a reflection of the One. This is the container or “womb” within which all other tones are born. However the power of two is “sterile” in that it can only replicate the ground tone at the octave indefinitely. It is the power of three that introduces an imbalance making possible an infinitude of musical tones. The three might be seen to represent the gunas and all their permutations.

ADDITIONAL MUSICAL CONSIDERATIONS

Any tone played in solitude has no meaning unless placed within the gamut of a melody. Any melody is derived from the tonal center which is the “key note,” and all the notes in a melody gain meaning in how they relate to that tonal center or root. Therefore, the root is implied in every sung or played tone. If it were not, the tone would serve no function. The tension and release felt when one sings a melody is possible because of the inter-relatedness of all the tones in any given key. Yogically, unity is implied within diversity. No one aspect or any system, be it musical or otherwise, exists in isolation, as meaning is gleaned only in relation to the whole.

Another way to express the problem musically would be to realize that no tuning system is perfect; each has advantages and disadvantages. The rsis knew this musically and existentially and so developed the activity of sacrifice. As was described earlier, any tuning system has built-in limits which, if violated, produce adverse musical results, again leading to the necessity for sacrifice. We either sacrifice the system entirely, allowing the possibility for re-creation (i.e., a new system) or we employ limitation or moderation. Either way sacrifice is a necessity for maintaining integrity. Finality, or the ideal system, was never sought by the Vedic seers. This would defeat the rsis’ purpose for employing acoustics theory as a model for culture, that purpose being mobility, continuation, creativity, and renewal. Equal temperament, adopted in Western music, is the only system which seeks finality by annihilating imperfection. It eliminates commas, this is, leftover intervals of no use to musicians, and grants all musical intervals equal dominion. This tuning has served the European and American composers very well; without it a Bach fugue would not have been possible. However, it is the worst possible model for describing social structure. When the rational order that organizes a society and the individuals within it correspond to the rational order of equal temperament, innovation and multiplicity are either eliminated or greatly attenuated. Equal temperature limits the tonal possibility of a scale by fixing the parameters of tone according to logically precise mathematical principles, allowing for universal conformity but highly restricted tonal variation. When this rational ideal is applied to the organization of societies the same restriction of possibility ensues. It is interesting to note that equal temperament is a relatively recent innovation, dating from the 17th century and corresponding to the rise of modern scientific method and Western technology. For its innovation and continuity, the Vedic community depended on other musical tunings and scales which admitted imperfection. It is the imperfection of any system which prompts the adoption of another, for the sole purpose of renewal.

CONCLUSION

Given the vast number of hermeneutic stances commentators have taken in their interpretations of the Rg Veda and the Yoga Sutra, the above musicological rendering seems rather unorthodox. However, detailed examination reveals that it may be our only tool in demonstrating the cohesiveness and consistency of Vedic numerology. The highly evolved musical system of the rsis, uncovered by McClain, was the best system known for describing, by way of analogy, the components of human experience.

The Yoga system, which evolved much later in Indian culture, no longer relied upon the use of gods and demons, nor on the use of numbers. However, the lessons of the Rg Veda, i.e., the need for sacrifice, creativity, mobility, etc., were maintained, as discussed earlier. It is through our understanding of the Rg Veda that we can make sense of its connection to all of India’s spiritual culture.

NOTES

Tom Affatigato has a BFA in Music from Stony Brook University and has studied with Ernest G. McClain and Antonio T. DeNicolas. He is currently Astronomy Instructor at the Vanderbilt Planetarium on Long Island.

  1. 1.Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan and Charles A. Moore, eds., A Sourcebook in Indian Philosophy. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957), p. 5.↩
  2. 2.Antonio T. DeNicolas, Meditations Through the Rg Veda: Four Dimensional Man (New York: Nicolas Hays Ltd., 1976), p. 77.↩
  3. 3.Ibid., pp. 9-10↩
  4. 4.Ibid., p. 89.↩
  5. 5.Ibid., p. 229.↩
  6. 6.Ibid., pp. 95,107.↩
  7. 7.Jose Ortega y Gasset, Man and Crisis, trans. Mildred Adams (New York: W.W Norton and Company, 1958), p. 196.↩
  8. 8.DeNicolas, p. 120.↩
  9. 9.The Rg Veda: An Anthlogy, trans. Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty (England: Penquin Books, 1981) p. 149.↩
  10. 10.Note that the above terms “creativity” and “dogmatism” are used instead of “creation” and “chaos” for the following reason: creativity and dogmatism relate directly to human attitudes or experiences, we live in one mode or the other. Creation and chaos on the other hand could easily be construed as abstract terms beyond the scope of experience. We are concerned here (and so were the rsis) with experience, i.e., life as lived; also, the term “creativity” should not be taken in merely an aesthetic sense, but in a more radical sense as the creation of incarnate structures, a structure from which and within which any act gains meaning.↩
  11. 11.DeNicolas, p. 143.↩
  12. 12.Ortega y Gasset, p. 98.↩
  13. 13.DeNicolas, p. 143.↩
  14. 14.Ibid., p. 233.↩
  15. 15.Ibid., p. 156.↩
  16. 16.Ibid., p. 55.↩
  17. 17. Ernest G. McClain, The Myth of Invariance: The Origin of the Gods, Mathematic and Music from the Rg Veda to Plato, (New York: Nicolas hays Ltd., 1976), p. 196.↩
  18. 18. DeNicolas, p. 140. ↩
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