Yoga is not compulsion forced on the body, the senses or the mind, but it is rather a freedom that we give to them. While we may lack freedom in the world, yoga gives us both joy and freedom. We become at ease and at one with ourselves, whether it is through the physical postures of asanas, whether it is through the retention of the breath in pranayama, whether it is through meditation on the Absolute—it makes no difference. It makes no difference at what stage of yoga we are; the point is how we feel. Our feeling should be one of ease, release from tension and at-one-ment with ourselves. Very important to remember: at-one-ment with our own selves. This is yoga in every one of its stages.

We are out of tune with ourselves because of too much thinking of unnecessary things. People usually say, “Oh, I am too busy!” Because of this excessive busyness in life, we are neither able to perform anything dexterously and successfully in our lives, nor are we able to maintain mental poise. By a collectedness of the mind through an understanding of our relation with nature, we can live a little happier than we usually do. It is not proper to try to fulfil every one of our desires. This is the reason why we feel weak—on account of the anxiety created through the attempts to fulfil the desires that we have in our hearts.

We must have a justification for the fulfilment of our desire, but it gets justified only when it is fulfilled in reference to the higher level that we want to attain in our lives. This is also a kind of morality of desire. Morality can be defined as the consciousness that the higher level should determine the lower. When our desires can be made compatible with the operation of the law of an immediate higher level of life, then we may be able to fulfil those desires easily, and they would also be justified. Actions become immoral if the fulfilment of our desires in a particular level of life is incompatible with the demands of the higher level immediately above.

It is difficult for the ordinary man to know what morality is, because he cannot know what the higher level is. The higher is that which sublimates, includes and transcends the lower, and at the same time makes us freer and happier. The laws of the world, or the laws of God by which we are supposed to abide, are all ultimately the higher determinings of the lower levels of life. I have been trying to explain the necessity of a moral life, and it is morality that brings strength or inner toughness, and it is immorality that makes us weak. What morality actually is cannot be known by the study of textbooks of ethics. These texts will not reveal to us the truths of this matter, because morality is so uniquely subtle in every given situation or circumstance. Often its special forms, though not its general forms, differ from person to person, from one country to another country, from one season to another season, and from one circumstance to another circumstance.

The moral life is a difficult life—not just a stereotyped track that we have to tread. It is difficult, just as the proper prescription of a medicine by a physician is difficult. It is not easy to prescribe a medicine—it is a very complicated science, and the doctor has to understand the situation properly. Likewise is the understanding of the moral conduct that we have to adopt in our lives. What is proper is difficult to understand without the exercise of a proper understanding.

When we attain a sense of wisdom, we conform to laws operating within us as well as outside us. Tending to integration in a higher level of our lives, we become truly moral in our consciousness, and this gives us strength. A moral person is stronger than a person with a sword or a gun. This is why for example that people talk of Mahatma Gandhi so much, although he had a frail body and no weapons in his hands. His strength came from a conviction born of a moral consciousness. All morality is strength, and immorality is weakness. Whatever be our possessions, if there is no moral consciousness within us, there will be weakness side by side with the possessions.

We can be terrified even by a fly if there is no inner moral consciousness. If there is a confidence born of the abidance by law which is morality, there is a peculiar kind of power that we feel within which difficult to explain in words. If we always feel confident, everything will be all right on account of the simultaneous feeling that we are on the right path. “I am right, I shall not suffer in this world,” will be our confidence. This is one form of the moral consciousness.

I may reiterate that there is no yoga practice without moral consciousness within. It is not only a practice, it is also a state of feeling and consciousness. No one who is not moral can be a yogin. Morality is not only make-believe or the following of the social law of morality—morality is a state of consciousness. I purposely use the phrase “moral consciousness” rather than “following the moral law”. We may be practising the moral law of a society, and yet we may not have a moral consciousness—in which case we will again feel weakness. We may be a very important and well-placed person in society, but we may not have the strength to maintain this moral consciousness within.

The Bhagavadgita explains the situation very beautifully in one of its beautiful verses: “One may be morally disciplined in outward limbs of the body, but inwardly contemplating objects of sense.” This is not morality. What we are in our minds is our morality. We may be anything outside in human society, but this is something different. What are we inside? That is our own morality. What people say about us is not our true nature. They may say this or they may say that, but their judgements may not be correct because nobody can see within us.

This is a very important aspect of yoga practice, and if this is missed, we will miss the whole calculation. If we come initially to the error that two and two make five, all our later calculations will be wrong. Whatever be the effort we make for our calculations, we have presumed in the beginning that two and two make five. Likewise, all attempts at yoga practice will be a waste of time and energy—bringing nothing in the end—if we make the mistake of thinking that we are quite all right when we are not. Let no one be foolhardy enough to think that everything is quite all right. Nobody can be quite all right in this world. One has to be very cautious, because one can slip at any point on a path which is so precipitous. It is easy to be self-complacent but difficult to be self-critical. It is the nature of the mind to be complacent. “I am always all right, and others are wrong,” is a peculiar way in which the mind works in this world.

It is a psychological quirk that the mind feels that it is highly rational, although this is not a correct feeling. The person will be the loser, if this attitude is maintained throughout life. The moral foundation is going to determine the higher success in yoga, and morality is not outward conformity to moral law, but rather the maintenance of a moral consciousness within. Our hearts should be satisfied that we are moral—it is of no use if others say that we are moral. When we close our eyes and we are alone in a room, if our hearts are truly satisfied, then we are wholly moral and God will save us. Otherwise, all the worlds cannot protect us.

This is a small point which many students of yoga miss in their enthusiasm and in their practice and so they complain, “No God, no yoga, no religion and nothing else has come to me. I am fed up!” There are people who have been meditating for twenty, thirty, forty years and they achieve nothing, because they started with a wrong basis of self-complacency. They had small weaknesses which covered their vision like sand particles in their eyes, due to which they could not see anything properly. This fact is mostly ignored in the practice of yoga, and many teachers of yoga do not lay sufficient emphasis on this aspect of moral consciousness.

No student of yoga has patience enough to think of this important matter. They are all interested in asana, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana, dhyana and samadhi, and not in the basic principles. It is very unfortunate, and it is quite evident as to why we are not successful in our practise of yoga. A small mistake that we committed in the beginning has spoiled the whole affair, and despite all our efforts of years and years, we will realise when it is too late, “Oh, I made a small mistake, and the whole thing has gone dead wrong!” Let no time be wasted in false assumptions as to one’s perfection. Let no one imagine that one is perfect. God alone can be perfect—no human being can be. Let there be this humility first.

Do not be too enthusiastic in these matters—go slow and do not try to jump. Walk slowly and cautiously, with a review of the steps that have already been taken. Every day make a review of yesterday’s practise. “Has it been all right, or was there a difficulty? What has happened to me? Can I take a further step?” This is the way in which we have to review our yesterday’s practise and our yesterday’s problems and difficulties. This foundation must be properly laid. The foundation is very important—more important than the building, we must remember. What is the good of having a beautiful building, if it has a shaky foundation? The foundation of yoga is a moral consciousness, and again I insist that it is not conformity to outer law, which is different altogether. The morality of the conformity to outer law is different from yoga morality, which is a consciousness.

We must be satisfied, not others. There is no use for others to be judges of us—we have to be our own judge. If we are satisfied from the whole of our hearts, then it is all right. Otherwise, something will be murmuring from within, “My dear friend, it is not all right.” We may be trying to hush up that voice, but it will not keep quiet. It will tell us again and again the same thing. A conscious endeavour to maintain this sense of morality, an attitude of moral consciousness and an honesty of purpose are the foundation of yoga practice. This itself is a practice. The ability to maintain for a protracted period, if not continuously, a moral consciousness is itself a very important step in yoga. This takes a long time, because to maintain a moral consciousness is identical with being unselfish in the world. We cannot be selfish and at the same time moral. The deviation from the moral consciousness occurs on account of the desires which we want to fulfil somehow or the other. How can we be moral and at the same time be happy in this world? This is a conflict within us. It is not true that happiness depends upon immorality. This is a false notion. The moral consciousness will make us so happy; and later on we will realise that it is a permanent happiness which will not leave us, whereas the happiness that we acquire by hook or by crook is an illusion before our eyes which will leave us one day.

One should not commit this mistake of imagining that by deviation from morality one can be happy. The discipline of desire is necessary for the maintenance of a moral consciousness. We cannot just be at the beck and call of our whims and fancies and at the same time be moral. We should not be whimsical. We should have correct judgement and a logical way of thinking in the smallest things also. There is no ‘smallest thing’ in the world, because everything is equally important in its own place. In everything we have to be logical and careful.

We have to see everything from all sides, not only one or two sides. It is like the commander of an army who weighs the situation properly from all directions before taking a step. We cannot simply say, “March!” like a foolish person. We will have to know whether it is proper to march or not, what our strength is, what the strength of the enemy is and where they stand. This is the way in which we will make a whole review of the circumstances. Like the army commander who has to be very cautious, a yoga student maintains a carefulness of step, and he disciplines his desires with tremendous effort.

In the beginning of our practise, we should not live in the thick of an unwholesome environment and then think of controlling our senses. This is why in the beginning we are asked to be a little away from the hustle and bustle of the cities. Later on when we have sufficient strength we may also be in the cities, but in the beginning it is not proper. A great saint has given a small illustration to explain the necessity of a little isolation in the beginning. We know that fire can consume ghee (clarified butter). If one pours ghee into a fire, the flame will blaze up more and more and burn up the ghee. Pour tons of it into a large fire, and the ghee will be burned up without any residue, because fire has such strength. But suppose the fire is only a spark, and we throw ten tons of ghee over it; the fire will not be able to consume it, and the spark will be consumed by the ghee itself. Pour ten tons of ghee over a spark of fire and the spark will be extinguished, though a larger fire has the capacity to burn any amount of ghee. Likewise it may be that we have the strength to bear anything in life, but in the beginning we should not waste this strength that is incipiently present inside us but not yet manifested outside. We should not live in the midst of objects of temptation and then try to control the senses. It is too difficult.

In the beginning stages we should physically distance ourselves from the objects of temptation, and not merely claim that the temptations are not a problem because we think we are not mentally attracted. “Oh, I am a mental sannyasin. These things don’t affect me!” We can say that only in the more advanced stages. In the beginning it is difficult to control the senses or discipline them, and they will have their own laws and prescriptions. We will succumb to them one day or the other, and then it will be difficult to come back to the normal position. Therefore, in the initial stages it is necessary to live in a guarded atmosphere. That is why people go to ashrams, cloisters and convents—to live in a guarded atmosphere. We cannot simply do whatever we like in institutions of that nature, and so this is a good protection.

In the beginning it is an external protection—a kind of compulsion, we may say, but in the earlier stages this kind of compulsion is necessary. Afterwards this compulsion may become a spontaneous moral consciousness, but in the beginning the restraint must be there. In the beginning a tendency is there to fulfil the desires rather than to be moral. Life in a protected atmosphere of a cloister or a monastery or in the presence of a competent Guru or master is necessary. Because of the temptations, we cannot be at home and then be successful in yoga. We know ourselves what the temptations are in city life and at home.

From the outward discipline of this nature, we move towards a spontaneous inner discipline of the moral consciousness, and then we are strong enough to be able to practise the steps of yoga. This is the strength to which I made reference earlier—a strength which we mostly lack but which is very essential. We should never feel diffident or nervous in the practice of yoga. Confidence is necessary. We should not be thinking, “I do not know whether I am right or wrong, and I do not know where I am standing.” This doubt has to be dispelled by clear thought. If we cannot do it ourselves, we must go to a competent teacher. It is not that we can always be independently clarified in our thought. That is why a Guru is necessary. When we cannot understand, we go to a master. “This is my doubt and difficulty and problem,” we say, and it will be clarified for us, and then we can proceed further. Thus, with a clarified understanding and the consequent moral sense that we are able to maintain, we become strong.

This strength is what generally goes by the name of brahmacharya. The term ‘brahmacharya’ is more than what it outwardly means to people. It is the sum total of the retention of energy in our system by the avoidance of all leakage of energy in any manner whatsoever. Brahmacharya is not merely ‘celibacy’ as it is translated in English. It is more than that; it is the maintenance of a moral consciousness. One may be a celibate and yet may be finding it difficult to maintain this consciousness of brahmacharya. It is an overall continence and not merely celibacy. It is a continence of the powers of sense taken in their totality, which renders the body strong, healthy, tireless and even lustrous. This energy is very essential for the practice of yoga, without which we feel weak in body, mind and soul. Lacking this energy we will feel wearied in our spirits. This should not be the condition into which the yoga student is driven.

Cautiousness is yoga, in the same way as consciousness is yoga. The moral sense in all things is not an unimportant item in yoga. It is very important, and it is very essential that we make a careful note of this essential limb—the moral consciousness. Once one is properly and in adequate proportion established in this, then we can say that almost fifty percent of our difficulties are over. This is an essential aspect of yoga which I tried to emphasise, because this is a point which most people miss in their practice. It is due to this error that there may not be visible success in the practice that has been carried on even for years together.