За малко да пропусна и да изхвърля еднин линк със статия с много показателен пример, за изключително интересният поток на мислите и интерпретациит
е на Кришнамачаря в/у Йога Сутра. Казвам иключително интересен, защото си е направо забележителен. Някой беше казал, че с помощта на свещените (индийски) писания можеш да докажеш абсолютно всичко, но никога не бях разбирал до какви подробности може да се стигне.
Ако някой се пита къде за първи път е ц
итирана аштанга-виняса йога (гимнастиката на синхронизирано дишане с асана) то това е Йога Сутра! Ето защо Йога Сутра ни препоръчва гимнастика: (Диакритиката не е излязла - оригинала е от последната страница на
http://www.namarupa.org/magazine/nr06/downloads/05_NR6-Srivatsa.pdf BUT YOU MAY ASK, “IF YOU SAY THIS is an ancient system, where are the references to these ideas in the old texts? Where did úrà Krishnamacharya find these methods? Don’t say Yoga Kurunta; we know about it. Where else can you find references to these concepts?”
Vinyása Krama was the mainstay of Krishnamacharya’s teaching of Hatha Yoga. The word vinyása is used to indicate an art form of practice. This word is used in several arts, especially in South Indian Carnatic music, a fully evolved classical music system. Vinyás
Krama indicates doing ásana with multiple aesthetic variations within the prescribed parameters. Yoga was considered one of sixty-four ancient arts. Hence if you approach yoga ásana practice as an art, that methodology is Vinyása Krama. The beauty and efficacy of yoga is eloquently brought out by Vinyása Krama.
What about breath synchronization, another important ingredient of Krishnamacharya’s Vinyása Krama? What about mental focus on the breath while doing ásana practice, central to vinyása yoga? None of the yoga schools teaches yoga in this manner and no classic Hatha Yoga texts mention breath synchronization in ásana practice. Where can one find references to these?
This was one of the few questions I asked my guru: Is Vinyása Krama an old, traditional practice? úrà Krishnamacharya quoted a verse indicating that reference to this practice can be found in a text called Väddha Sátápata and also in the Yoga Sâtras of Patañjali. There was no point in looking for an obscure text like Väddha Sátápata, but Yoga Sâtra was at hand. But where is the reference? There are hardly two Sâtras explaining ásana, and there is no reference to breath in them—or is there?
Going back to my notes on Yoga Sâtra classes with my guru, I found a very interesting interpretation of the sâtra, Prayatna-ùaithilya anantasamápattibhyám. The word prayatna, very commonly used in India, basically means “effort.” úaithilya indicates “softness.” So Prayatna-ùaithilya could mean “mild effort”; hence you find that many writers on the Yoga Sâtras declare that the way to achieve perfection in a yoga posture is to “ease into the posture effortlessly.” This is easier said than done. There are hundreds of practitioners who cannot relax enough to be able to easily get into a posture like the Lotus, for example. So we have to investigate the meaning of the word prayatna as used by the darùanakáras in those days. Prayatna according to Nyáya, a sibling philosophy to yoga, is a bit involved. Nyáya explains prayatna of three kinds (prayatnaê trividhaê proktam). Two of them are the effort put in for happiness (pravätti) and the effort to remove unhappiness (nivätti). Every being does this all the time. One set of our efforts is always directed toward achieving happiness and the other toward eradicating unhappiness. But the third type of effort relevant here is the effort of life (jàvana-prayatna). What is effort of life? It is the breath or breathing. Now we can say that prayatna-ùaithilya is to make the breath smooth. Thus in ásana practice according to Vinyása Krama, the breath should be smooth and by implication long (dàrgha).
The other part of the sâtra refers to samápatti, or mental focus. Where or on what should the mental focus be? It is to be on ananta (ananta-samápatti). Now we have to investigate the contextual meaning of the word ananta, translated as “endless” or “limitless,” which many writers equate with infinity. So some schools tend to say that while practicing ásanas, one should focus the attention on infinity, which is inappropriate—and impossible, at least for the vast majority of yogàs. Ananta also refers to the serpent, Ädiùeüa, whose incarnation Patañjali is believed to be. So some schools suggest that one should focus on a mental image of Ädiùeüa or Patañjali. It may be possible, but it is uncomfortable to think that Patañjali would write that one should focus on his form for the success of ásana practice. So what might ananta symbolically signify? The word ananta can be considered to be derived from the root, “ana”—to breathe (ana ùváse). We are all familiar with the group of words práóa, apána, vyána, etc., names of the five práóas derived from the root “ana.” So in the sâtra, ananta could mean “breath”; ananta-samápatti is then translated as “focusing the mind on the breath.” In fact Ananta, or the serpent king, is associated with air. Mythologically the cobra is associated with air; there is a common mythological belief that cobras live on air. If you look at the icon of Natarája (the dancing úiva), you will find all five elements of the universe (earth, water, air, fire, and space) represented symbolically in úiva. The matted red hair represents fire, the Gaïgá in his tresses, the water element; the air element is said to be represented Krama indicates doing ásana with multiple aesthetic variations within the prescribed parameters. Yoga was considered one of sixty-four ancient arts. Hence if you approach yoga ásana practice as an art, that methodology is Vinyása Krama. The beauty and efficacy of yoga is eloquently brought out by Vinyása Krama.
What about breath synchronization, another important ingredient of Krishnamacharya’s Vinyása Krama? What about mental focus on the breath while doing ásana practice, central to vinyása yoga? None of the yoga schools teaches yoga in this manner and no classic Hatha Yoga texts mention breath synchronization in ásana practice. Where can one find references to these?
This was one of the few questions I asked my guru: Is Vinyása Krama an old, traditional practice? úrà Krishnamacharya quoted a verse indicating that reference to this practice can be found in a text called Väddha Sátápata and also in the Yoga Sâtras of Patañjali. There was no point in looking for an obscure text like Väddha Sátápata, but Yoga Sâtra was at hand. But where is the reference? There are hardly two Sâtras explaining ásana, and there is no reference to breath in them—or is there?
Going back to my notes on Yoga Sâtra classes with my guru, I found a very interesting interpretation of the sâtra, Prayatna-ùaithilya anantasamápattibhyám. The word prayatna, very commonly used in India, basically means “effort.” úaithilya indicates “softness.” So Prayatna-ùaithilya could mean “mild effort”; hence you find that many writers on the Yoga Sâtras declare that the way to achieve perfection in a yoga posture is to “ease into the posture effortlessly.” This is easier said than done. There are hundreds of practitioners who cannot relax enough to be able to easily get into a posture like the Lotus, for example. So we have to investigate the meaning of the word prayatna as used by the darùanakáras in those days. Prayatna according to Nyáya, a sibling philosophy to yoga, is a bit involved. Nyáya explains prayatna of three kinds (prayatnaê trividhaê proktam). Two of them are the effort put in for happiness (pravätti) and the effort to remove unhappiness (nivätti). Every being does this all the time. One set of our efforts is always directed toward achieving happiness and the other toward eradicating unhappiness. But the third type of effort relevant here is the effort of life (jàvana-prayatna). What is effort of life? It is the breath or breathing. Now we can say that prayatna-ùaithilya is to make the breath smooth. Thus in ásana practice according to Vinyása Krama, the breath should be smooth and by implication long (dàrgha).
The other part of the sâtra refers to samápatti, or mental focus. Where or on what should the mental focus be? It is to be on ananta (ananta-samápatti). Now we have to investigate the contextual meaning of the word ananta, translated as “endless” or “limitless,” which many writers equate with infinity. So some schools tend to say that while practicing ásanas, one should focus the attention on infinity, which is inappropriate—and impossible, at least for the vast majority of yogàs. Ananta also refers to the serpent, Ädiùeüa, whose incarnation Patañjali is believed to be. So some schools suggest that one should focus on a mental image of Ädiùeüa or Patañjali. It may be possible, but it is uncomfortable to think that Patañjali would write that one should focus on his form for the success of ásana practice. So what might ananta symbolically signify? The word ananta can be considered to be derived from the root, “ana”—to breathe (ana ùváse). We are all familiar with the group of words práóa, apána, vyána, etc., names of the five práóas derived from the root “ana.” So in the sâtra, ananta could mean “breath”; ananta-samápatti is then translated as “focusing the mind on the breath.” In fact Ananta, or the serpent king, is associated with air. Mythologically the cobra is associated with air; there is a common mythological belief that cobras live on air. If you look at the icon of Natarája (the dancing úiva), you will find all five elements of the universe (earth, water, air, fire, and space) represented symbolically in úiva. The matted red hair represents fire, the Gaïgá in his tresses, the water element; the air element is said to be represented texts like Hatha-yoga-pradàpiká, Yoga-Yájñavalkya and others.
Апропо не е само въпрос до езиковата компетентност!