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đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑌂𑌜𑌲đ‘Œŋ đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— đ‘Œ¸đ‘‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œŋ - 4 (𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑌃)

đ‘ŒĒ𑌾𑌤𑌂𑌜𑌲đ‘Œŋ đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— đ‘Œ¸đ‘‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œŋ close with the fourth chapter, traditionally called 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ - the chapter on liberation. Here 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ points to the seer abiding in its own nature, independent of the mind's movements and no longer driven by the push-pull of craving and fear. It is often explained as complete inner freedom, because misidentification has ended at the root. This chapter is less about techniques and more about what those techniques were for: the end of misidentification. In that sense it is the sutras' philosophical completion, but it is also intensely practical, because it describes how bondage is recreated moment by moment and how it can stop.

In 𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ, Patanjali defined đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— as the stilling of the mind and described the terrain of meditation: practice and dispassion, obstacles that scatter attention, and stages of absorption. In 𑌸𑌾𑌧𑌨 đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ, he laid out the causes of suffering and the disciplines that purify and stabilize life - ethics, breath, sense-restraint, and steady inward training. In đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌭𑍂𑌤đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ, he mapped the power of focused attention through đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽ, describing refined perception and unusual capacities while warning that many of them can distract from freedom. With those foundations in place, this final chapter turns to the deepest question: what does liberation actually mean in lived experience?

This chapter explains how 𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 and latent tendencies shape perception, why even the most refined mind is still something seen, and how discernment becomes irreversible. It also addresses time, change, and the structure of experience: how the mind "colors" what it knows, how habit-seeds sprout, and how the sense of "I" quietly claims ownership. These sutras can feel abstract, but they are describing something intimate: the mechanics of identification. When you see those mechanics clearly, freedom is not a mystical prize; it is the natural result of not mistaking the instrument for the self.

The arc culminates in 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮-𑌮𑍇𑌘 𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ - a maturity where even attachment to insight dissolves - and in the idea of nature's processes returning to rest (đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸đ‘Œĩ) when their purpose is fulfilled. Read this chapter with patience. It is normal to understand it in layers: first as a philosophy, later as a direct description of what you notice when the mind becomes quieter, and finally as a steady inner orientation where experience continues but clinging does not.

A helpful way to study is to keep translating the sutras back into lived observation. Where do you see a habit-seed rising? Where do you see the mind grabbing an identity? Where do you see the difference between a thought and the knower of the thought? When these questions become familiar, 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ stops feeling distant. It becomes a guide for a cleaner relationship with the mind - one that opens into the freedom Patanjali describes.

𑌅đ‘ŒĨ 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑌃 āĨ¤

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌅đ‘ŒĨ - now; an auspicious beginning
𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - liberation; aloneness/independence of the seer
đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑌃 - chapter/section

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Now begins the chapter on liberation.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
The word 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ is central to Patanjali's vision. It is commonly translated as liberation, and it also carries the sense of "aloneness" or independence: the seer stands on its own, not borrowing identity from the mind's changing contents. In that sense, it is also a kind of self-realization: awareness recognizes itself as the seer and no longer confuses itself with what is seen. It does not mean social withdrawal; it means the seer is no longer dependent on the mind for identity. When awareness stops mistaking thoughts, emotions, and roles as "me," it becomes inwardly free even while living an ordinary life. This chapter describes that freedom with precision: how it happens, what obstructs it, and what it looks like when it is stable.

Notice how this framing protects the reader from two extremes. One extreme is to chase experiences and miss the goal; the other is to dismiss đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— as mere self-help and miss its depth. 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ is not a mood; it is a shift in identification. The mind becomes a tool rather than a master, and life is lived from clarity rather than compulsion. This is why Patanjali can sound philosophical here: he is describing what changes when the sense of "I" stops claiming every thought and feeling as itself.

In practice, begin by remembering the aim. When meditation brings calm or insight, appreciate it, but keep asking: does this reduce clinging? Does it soften fear? When life becomes noisy, return to the simple work of seeing what is seen and resting as the seer. You can do this in small moments: pause before reacting, notice the thought as a thought, and feel the space of the witness behind it. This repeated turning is how the final freedom described here becomes realistic and lived, not just an idea you admire.

𑌜𑌨𑍍𑌮𑍌𑌷𑌧đ‘Œŋ𑌮𑌂𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘ŒĒ𑌸𑍍𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ𑌜𑌾𑌃 𑌸đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĻđ‘đ‘Œ§đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ āĨĨ1āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌜𑌨𑍍𑌮 - birth; inborn disposition
𑌔𑌷𑌧đ‘Œŋ - herbs; medicines
𑌮𑌂𑌤𑍍𑌰 - mantra; sacred formula
𑌤đ‘ŒĒ𑌸𑍍 - austerity; disciplined heat
𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ - meditative absorption
𑌜𑌾𑌃 - born of; arising from
𑌸đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĻđ‘đ‘Œ§đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ - powers; attainments

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Special attainments can arise from birth, herbs, mantra, austerity, or meditative absorption.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali begins by widening the lens: unusual capacities can come from many sources. Some are simply inborn - a sharp intellect, a strong body, a sensitive intuition. Some may be temporarily amplified by substances (𑌔𑌷𑌧đ‘Œŋ) or by intense discipline (𑌤đ‘ŒĒ𑌸𑍍). Some arise through mantra practice, and some through the deep stillness of 𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ. The point is not to endorse every method, but to clarify that "powers" are not a reliable measure of realization.

This is an important warning for seekers. A person can have impressive abilities and still be driven by ego, craving, or fear. Conversely, someone may have no dramatic experiences and yet be steadily dissolving suffering. Patanjali's path values inner freedom over display, and this sutra keeps you from confusing intensity with transformation. Even when a capacity is genuine, it can become a trap if it feeds 𑌅𑌸𑍍𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾 (ego-identification), makes you seek applause, or turns practice into performance. Some methods can amplify experience quickly, but not necessarily purify the heart.

In practice, choose what purifies and stabilizes the mind. Let ethics, steadiness, and discernment be the tests of progress, not unusual phenomena. If you encounter unusual experiences, stay grounded and do not build identity around them, and be cautious about shortcuts that bypass character. Ask a simpler question: does this practice make me more truthful, less reactive, and more compassionate? If yes, it is moving toward freedom. If it makes you more restless, more self-important, or more confused, it needs correction even if it feels powerful.

đ‘Œœđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œƒ đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ•đ‘ƒđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘ŒĒ𑍂𑌰𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ2āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌜𑌾𑌤đ‘Œŋ - kind; type; class
𑌅𑌂𑌤𑌰 - other; different
đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œƒ - transformation; change
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌕𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ - nature; primal matrix of mind-matter
𑌆đ‘ŒĒ𑍂𑌰𑌾𑌤𑍍 - from filling; from completion/infusion

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Transformation into another kind occurs through the unfolding and "filling in" of nature's potential.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali describes change as something that already lies latent in đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌕𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ. A seed becomes a tree not because someone "creates" the tree, but because the seed's potential unfolds when conditions support it. Likewise, deep transformation in character and perception happens when latent tendencies mature and reorganize. This sutra suggests that nature has its own intelligence of growth, and đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— works with it rather than against it. It also implies that change can look quiet and ordinary on the outside while becoming profound on the inside.

This can be read as both metaphysical and practical. On a practical level, it says: lasting change is not a quick makeover; it is a re-patterning. You do not become calm by forcing calmness; you become calm when agitation has less fuel and clarity has more support. Over time, the inner system "fills in" a new baseline - a different kind of mind. This is why Patanjali keeps emphasizing practice over ideas: the system has to be trained until clarity becomes your default, not your exception.

In practice, focus on conditions rather than sheer willpower. Build routines that reduce friction and support steadiness: regular sleep, honest speech, consistent sitting, and fewer distractions. When a habit seems stubborn, treat it like a long-season crop and keep working with patience. Track one change at a time: one reduced stimulation, one consistent practice window, one honest boundary. Keep watering the right causes and removing obvious obstacles. Nature changes steadily when it is given the right environment, and that steady change is more reliable than dramatic bursts.

𑌨đ‘Œŋ𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œœđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ‚ đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌕𑍃𑌤𑍀𑌨𑌾𑌂đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œ­đ‘‡đ‘ŒĻ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 𑌤𑌤𑌃 𑌕𑍍𑌷𑍇𑌤𑍍𑌰đ‘Œŋ𑌕đ‘Œĩ𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ3āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌨đ‘Œŋ𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - an instrumental cause; condition
𑌅đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œœđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ‚ - not the direct producer
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌕𑍃𑌤𑍀𑌨𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of the processes of nature
𑌆đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖ - coverings; obstacles
đ‘ŒŦ𑌃𑌏đ‘ŒĻ𑌃 - breaking; removal
𑌤𑍁 - but; rather
𑌤𑌤𑌃 - from that
𑌕𑍍𑌷𑍇𑌤𑍍𑌰đ‘Œŋ𑌕 - farmer
đ‘Œĩ𑌤𑍍 - like

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
An external cause does not directly produce nature's changes; it removes obstacles, like a farmer.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra is one of Patanjali's most practical teachings about growth. A farmer does not "manufacture" a plant; he prepares the field, removes weeds, and opens water channels. Then the plant grows by its own nature. Similarly, disciplined effort does not force awakening into existence; it clears what blocks it. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— practices break the coverings (𑌆đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖ) that hide clarity, so that the mind's natural intelligence can unfold. This is a relief: you are not creating some new self, you are removing what prevents the best of you from being steady.

This changes how you relate to practice. Instead of straining for results, you focus on removing the obvious obstacles: inconsistency, dishonesty, overstimulation, resentment, and self-neglect. When those are reduced, steadiness appears more naturally. Even insight becomes less dramatic and more dependable, because it is no longer squeezed out of a noisy mind. At the same time, this is not passive: the farmer still works. Patanjali is describing right effort - steady, intelligent, and patient.

In practice, ask: what is the "weed" here? If meditation is hard, is the obstacle sleep debt, excessive media, unresolved conflict, or unrealistic expectations? Remove one obstacle at a time and let the system respond, and do it long enough to see the effect. This makes progress feel organic and sustainable. Like farming, đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— is rhythmic: steady work, patience, and trust in the process. When you focus on clearing obstacles rather than forcing outcomes, practice becomes kinder and more consistent.

𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œšđ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾𑌮𑌾𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ4āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖ - constructed; created
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌾𑌨đ‘Œŋ - minds; mind-streams
𑌅𑌸𑍍𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾 - I-sense; ego-identification
𑌮𑌾𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌾𑌤𑍍 - from only; from the mere presence of

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Created minds arise from the I-sense alone.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Traditionally, this sutra is read in the context of yogic power: through mastery, a practitioner can generate auxiliary mind-streams (𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖ 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌾𑌨đ‘Œŋ) for specific functions. But even without taking it literally, it describes something psychologically familiar: the ego can fabricate inner "roles" and narratives that behave like separate minds. The "manager mind," the "critic mind," the "people-pleaser mind" - all arise from 𑌅𑌸𑍍𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾, the insistence on "me" and "mine." When identity is threatened, these roles can take over automatically, and you feel like you are being run by a committee rather than living from a quiet center.

Seen this way, the sutra is a warning about fragmentation. When identity is rigid, the mind splinters into competing sub-personalities, each trying to protect the self-image. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— aims at integration: seeing these patterns without being possessed by them. When the seer is remembered, the mind can coordinate rather than compete, and decisions become simpler because they come from one clear aim instead of many hidden fears. This is also why ethics matter: they reduce inner contradiction, which reduces fragmentation.

In practice, notice when you switch masks and become scattered. Pause and ask: which "I" is speaking right now - the one that wants approval, the one that wants control, the one that is afraid? Then return to a simpler center: the witness of all these roles. You can also unify the mind by choosing one value to guide the next hour: truthfulness, patience, non-harming. Over time, 𑌅𑌸𑍍𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾 loosens, and the inner system becomes more unified. That unity supports steadiness in meditation and honesty in life, which is the real purpose of this chapter.

đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰đ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌭𑍇đ‘ŒĻ𑍇 đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œœđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ‚ 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍇𑌕𑌮𑌨𑍇𑌕𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ5āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰đ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ - activity; functioning
đ‘ŒŦ𑌃𑌏đ‘ŒĻ𑍇 - in differences; in variety
đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œœđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ‚ - directing; governing
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - mind
𑌏𑌕𑌮𑍍 - one
𑌅𑌨𑍇𑌕𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of many

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Amid varied activities, one mind can direct many.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Continuing the previous idea, Patanjali says that even when there are many functions, there can be a single directing intelligence. In the traditional reading, one primary mind governs multiple created minds. In everyday terms, a clear intention can organize many inner processes: planning, speaking, listening, and acting can all serve one aim instead of pulling in different directions. Without that center, life feels like being pulled by competing impulses; with it, actions become coherent. This is the difference between a busy mind that is scattered and a busy mind that is aligned.

This is also a clue about freedom. Liberation is not having "no mind"; it is having the mind as a servant rather than a tyrant. When attention is trained, the mind can coordinate thought, speech, and action toward a chosen aim instead of being hijacked by mood and habit. This is how the ethical and contemplative life becomes stable: many activities, one direction. You can still do complex work, but you are less internally divided, so the mind wastes less energy on self-contradiction.

In practice, set a simple daily orientation, not a long list of ambitions. Let it be something like: "Today I will speak truthfully and return to calm." Check in during transitions - before meetings, before meals, before sleep - and realign, especially when you notice yourself becoming reactive or scattered. This creates a single inner thread that runs through the day. You can also use a short phrase as an anchor ("one thing at a time") when you are tempted to multitask. Over time, your mind becomes less divided, and practice becomes continuous rather than occasional.

𑌤𑌤𑍍𑌰 đ‘Œ§đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œœđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘Œļđ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽđ‘ āĨĨ6āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌤𑍍𑌰 - there; among those
đ‘Œ§đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨ - meditation
𑌜𑌮𑍍 - born of
𑌅𑌨𑌾đ‘Œļđ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽđ‘ - without latent residue; without karmic deposits (𑌆đ‘Œļđ‘Œ¯)

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Among these, the mind born of meditation has no latent karmic residue.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali continues the discussion of constructed mind-streams and makes a crucial distinction: a mind formed through meditation is not driven by ordinary karmic baggage. The word 𑌆đ‘Œļđ‘Œ¯ refers to deep deposits of habit, desire, and karmic momentum. A mind that arises from đ‘Œ§đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨ is described as 𑌅𑌨𑌾đ‘Œļđ‘Œ¯ - it functions without those personal stains. It can operate as a clear instrument, not as a bundle of compulsions. In simpler terms, when action comes from quiet attention, it leaves less inner mess behind.

Even if you do not take "created minds" literally, the principle is valuable. When attention is steady and ego is quiet, actions arise from clarity rather than reactivity. Such actions leave less residue: fewer regrets, fewer entanglements, fewer stories to defend. Reactive action leaves a trail - guilt, justification, rumination - while clear action tends to end cleanly. This is one reason meditation is not just a private experience; it changes the quality of the mind that meets the world and reduces the inner burden you carry into the next moment.

In practice, notice how decisions differ when you are calm versus when you are triggered. Train yourself to pause, breathe, and act from a quieter center, even if it means delaying a response by a few minutes. After acting, release it rather than replaying it, because replaying is often where new residue is created. A useful habit is an end-of-day review: notice one action that felt clean and one that felt sticky, and learn from both. Over time, the "karmic deposit" of each day becomes lighter. A mind that is less burdened is more available for discernment and, eventually, for the freedom described in this chapter.

𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮𑌾đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ˛đ‘Œžđ‘Œ•đ‘ƒđ‘Œˇđ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œ‚ đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—đ‘Œŋ𑌨𑌃 𑌤𑍍𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌧𑌮đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌰𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ𑍭āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 - action; the force of action and its residue
𑌅đ‘Œļ𑍁𑌕𑍍𑌲 - not white (not merit-producing)
đ‘Œ…đ‘Œ–đ‘ƒđ‘Œˇđ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œ‚ - not black (not demerit-producing)
đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—đ‘Œŋ𑌨𑌃 - of the yogi
𑌤𑍍𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌧𑌮𑍍 - threefold
𑌇𑌤𑌰𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of others

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The yogi's action is neither merit-producing nor demerit-producing; for others it is threefold.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali describes a transformation in the very nature of action. For most people, action is mixed with craving, aversion, and self-image, so it produces karmic results that bind: "white" (pleasant results), "black" (painful results), or mixed. The yogi's action is different because it is not rooted in compulsive desire or ego-claim. When action is guided by clarity and non-attachment, it does not plant the same binding seeds. Pleasant and painful outcomes may still arise, but they do not create the same inner knot of identification.

This resonates with the 𑌭𑍍𑌹𑌗đ‘Œĩđ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌗𑍀𑌤𑌾's emphasis on acting without clinging to results. When you act as duty, service, or truth - rather than as a way to secure identity - the inner knots loosen. Patanjali is not saying the yogi becomes passive or irresponsible. He is saying the yogi's mind is no longer a factory of bondage. Action continues, but the binding glue is absent, because the action is not fueled by 𑌰𑌾𑌗/đ‘ŒĻ𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌷 and the constant need to defend a self-image.

In practice, experiment with one act a day done without inner bargaining. Do it quietly, do it well, and let it go. Watch how the mind tries to claim credit or fear blame, and gently release that. If you notice yourself replaying the action for approval, return to the breath and to the present task. Over time, you will see a shift: you can act firmly without being personally tangled. This is how 𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 becomes lighter and the mind becomes more fit for freedom.

𑌤𑌤𑌸𑍍𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒđ‘Œžđ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘‡đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌭đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œŋ𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ𑍮āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌤𑌃 - from that; therefore
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍 - that (𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮)
đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑌾𑌕 - ripening; fruition
đ‘Œ…đ‘Œ¨đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - corresponding; matching
𑌏đ‘Œĩ - only
𑌆𑌭đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - manifestation; arising
đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of latent tendencies; habit-seeds

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Therefore, only those latent tendencies that match the ripening of karma become active.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra explains why our inner life shifts in seasons. You carry countless đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌃 - latent tendencies and impressions - but not all of them are "on" at once. As certain karmic results ripen, the corresponding tendencies rise to the surface. This is why a person may feel unexpectedly drawn to something, irritated by something, or tempted in a new way: an older pattern has found its moment. Recognizing this keeps you from being surprised by yourself and helps you treat urges as a predictable unfolding rather than as a personal failure.

Understanding this reduces shame and increases wisdom. When a difficult tendency arises, it does not mean you have failed; it means a seed has sprouted. The question becomes: will you water it or uproot it? đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— offers tools to meet sprouting tendencies with awareness, restraint, and reorientation, and it also teaches you to respond without self-hatred. When you do that repeatedly, the seed weakens, and future ripenings lose their sting. In other words, 𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 may present a tendency, but it does not force you to feed it.

In practice, treat strong urges as information, not commands. When a craving rises, name it and observe its arc. Ask what it wants to promise you, and whether that promise is true. Then choose a small counter-action: breathe, delay, redirect attention, or do a wholesome substitute. It also helps to prepare in advance: remove obvious triggers, keep supportive routines, and ask for help when needed. Over time, you will see that tendencies are workable. They appear due to causes, and they dissolve when you stop feeding them.

𑌜𑌾𑌤đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĻ𑍇đ‘Œļ 𑌕𑌾𑌲 đ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œĩ𑌹đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌮đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ‚ 𑌸𑍍𑌮𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œƒ 𑌏𑌕𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨđ‘¯āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌜𑌾𑌤đ‘Œŋ - birth; kind; life-situation
đ‘ŒĻ𑍇đ‘Œļ - place
𑌕𑌾𑌲 - time
đ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œĩ𑌹đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌮𑍍 - even when separated; interrupted
𑌅đ‘ŒĒđ‘Œŋ - even
đ‘Œ†đ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽđ‘ - continuity; uninterrupted flow
𑌸𑍍𑌮𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ - memory
đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œƒ - of latent impressions
𑌏𑌕𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because of sameness of form; because they are of one nature

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Because memory and latent impressions are of the same nature, continuity persists even across gaps of birth, place, and time.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali points to a deep continuity in the psyche. Memories may fade, but 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾𑌃 - the underlying grooves - remain and reappear in new settings. Even when life changes dramatically, familiar patterns return: the same fears, the same attachments, the same ways of defending the ego. This is why transformation cannot be only external. You can change location, relationships, and routines, yet still carry the same inner momentum. The sutra is asking you to respect how deep conditioning goes, so you do not underestimate the work.

This sutra is not meant to create fatalism; it is meant to create clarity. If patterns are deep, then practice must also be deep. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— works at the level of 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰: repeated attention, repeated restraint, repeated reorientation. Over time, the grooves are reshaped. What once felt inevitable becomes optional. This is one reason Patanjali insists on consistency: the mind changes through repetition, not through occasional inspiration. Each small repetition weakens the old groove and strengthens the new one.

In practice, stop expecting a new environment to solve an old pattern. Use changes of life as opportunities to observe yourself more honestly. When a familiar reaction shows up, recognize it as an old 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰 expressing itself, not as your true nature. Then apply the tools: pause, breathe, inquire, and choose differently. It can also help to make one small vow during transitions (a move, a new job): one practice you will not drop. Each time you choose differently, you weaken the old continuity and build a new one - the continuity of freedom.

𑌤𑌾𑌸𑌾𑌮𑌨𑌾đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌂 𑌚𑌾đ‘Œļđ‘Œŋ𑌷𑍋 𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ10āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌾𑌸𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of those (latent tendencies)
𑌅𑌨𑌾đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌮𑍍 - beginninglessness
𑌚 - and
𑌆đ‘Œļđ‘Œŋ𑌷𑌃 - desire; longing; the will/hope to live and experience
𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because of continuity; because it persists

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
And these tendencies are beginningless, because the drive of desire continues.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali traces habit-seeds back to a fundamental engine: desire. The word 𑌆đ‘Œļđ‘Œŋ𑌷𑌃 points to the ongoing wish to experience, to continue, to become. As long as this drive keeps turning, impressions keep forming, and the chain appears beginningless. This is not a historical claim you must prove; it is a psychological observation: the mind habitually moves toward "more," and that movement writes grooves. When you notice this hunger for "more" in ordinary moments, you are already closer to freedom than when you simply obey it.

Yet "beginningless" does not mean "endless." The very purpose of đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— is to show that desire can be understood and purified. Desire becomes less blind and more wise. It can be refined into wholesome aspiration, and then even that can dissolve into peace. In other words, đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— does not fight desire; it transforms the relationship to it until clinging loses its grip. When desire is purified, it stops being a fire that burns and becomes a light that guides.

In practice, begin with honest observation. Where does desire show up as restlessness? Where does it show up as fear of missing out, as comparison, as impatience? When you see it clearly, you can hold it gently instead of obeying it. Practice contentment in small ways: pause before buying, pause before speaking, pause before seeking the next stimulation. These pauses weaken the engine and make space for a deeper satisfaction that does not depend on "more."

𑌹𑍇𑌤𑍁đ‘ŒĢ𑌲𑌾đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ˛đ‘Œ‚đ‘ŒŦ𑌨𑍈𑌃 𑌸𑌂𑌗𑍃𑌹𑍀𑌤𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌮𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌃 āĨĨ11āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌹𑍇𑌤𑍁 - cause
đ‘ŒĢ𑌲 - result; fruit
𑌆đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¯ - support; resting place; substrate
𑌆𑌲𑌂đ‘ŒŦ𑌨 - object; basis
𑌸𑌂𑌗𑍃𑌹𑍀𑌤𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because held together; because sustained
𑌏𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of these (tendencies)
𑌅𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑍇 - in the absence
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍 - that
𑌅𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌃 - absence; disappearance

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Because these tendencies are sustained by cause, result, support, and object, when those are absent, the tendencies are absent.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali gives a practical anatomy of habits. A tendency does not float in isolation; it is propped up by causes, by expected rewards, by some support structure, and by a preferred object. Remove these four, and the pattern starves. This is a clear, almost behavioral description: when the trigger is gone, the payoff is no longer available, the environment stops supporting it, and the object is not present, the tendency loses force.

This is why đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— works on multiple levels at once. It does not only teach "think differently"; it teaches "live differently." It asks you to change the supports of the mind: what you consume, what you repeatedly do, what you keep around you, and what you chase. When the outer and inner conditions change together, even deep đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌃 begin to loosen. If you only change thoughts but keep feeding the same triggers, the old pattern usually returns.

In practice, choose one recurring pattern and map these four supports. What causes it? What reward do you secretly expect? What environment supports it? What object does it chase? Then change one support at a time. Replace the reward with a healthier one, redesign the environment, and reduce exposure to the object. Also plan for relapse moments with compassion: when the pattern reappears, treat it as data and return to your new support. This makes inner change less mystical and more workable.

𑌅𑌤𑍀𑌤𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌗𑌤𑌂 𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑍋đ‘ŒŊđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ§đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌭𑍇đ‘ŒĻ𑌾đ‘ŒĻđ‘đ‘Œ§đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ āĨĨ12āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌅𑌤𑍀𑌤𑌮𑍍 - the past
𑌅𑌨𑌾𑌗𑌤𑌮𑍍 - the future
𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑌃 - in their own form; in their own nature
𑌅𑌸𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ - exists
𑌅𑌧𑍍đ‘Œĩ - time-track; course; pathway
đ‘ŒŦ𑌃𑌏đ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - due to difference
đ‘Œ§đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - of states/qualities; of modifications

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The past and the future exist in their own form; the difference lies in the course taken by the mind's changing states.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali now addresses time and change. He suggests that "past" and "future" are not pure nothingness; they exist as forms of potentiality and trace. What is past remains as an imprint, a pattern, a consequence. What is future exists as possibility, shaped by current causes. The difference is in the 𑌅𑌧𑍍đ‘Œĩ - the track along which a state moves from subtle potential to manifest experience and then to memory. This helps you see time as causality in motion: what you do now genuinely shapes what becomes possible later.

This view helps make sense of 𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 without superstition. Your past is present as tendencies and conditions; your future is present as direction and probability. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— teaches that by changing causes now, you alter the track. You are not trapped by what has already happened, but you are not free from it either. The sutra encourages a sober responsibility: practice changes the future because it changes the present causes. It avoids two extremes at once: denial ("the past does not matter") and fatalism ("the past decides everything").

In practice, use this as motivation rather than as fear. When you notice an old pattern, remember: it exists now as an imprint, not as a destiny. Work with it patiently, and focus on the next clean step rather than on regret. Also, plant causes you would like to see ripen: ethical choices, steady meditation, kinder speech, and better care of the body. Over time, the "future" becomes less anxious and more intentional because the causes are cleaner, and you begin to trust the process of change.

𑌤𑍇 đ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¸đ‘‚đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œˇđ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œƒ āĨĨ13āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑍇 - those
đ‘Œĩđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ¤ - manifest; expressed
𑌸𑍂𑌕𑍍𑌷𑍍𑌮𑌾𑌃 - subtle; unmanifest
đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œƒ - of the nature of the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
These states are either manifest or subtle, and they are made of nature's qualities.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—'s psychology is rooted in the idea of đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ - the forces of clarity, activity, and inertia that shape mind and matter. Patanjali says that whether a state is visible or hidden, it is still within nature; it is still a mode of the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ. This keeps liberation clear: freedom is not rearranging nature into a prettier pattern; it is knowing oneself as the seer of nature. Even the most refined meditation-state is still a state, and therefore it can be witnessed rather than claimed as "me."

This is comforting in daily life. When you feel restless, dull, or clear, you can recognize it as a shift in đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖ balance rather than as a fixed identity. "I am anxious" becomes "anxiety is present." That small change in language mirrors a deeper shift in perception: you are not the mood; you are the one who knows the mood. With repetition, this becomes less theoretical and more immediate: you stop arguing with moods and start watching them rise and pass.

In practice, observe the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ in your day. When clarity is present, protect it with good sleep, honest speech, and fewer distractions. When restlessness rises, ground the body, reduce stimulation, and return to slow breathing. When heaviness shows up, move, breathe, and seek light. This is not about controlling everything; it is about wise participation and not feeding the most unhelpful current. Over time, the mind becomes more sattvic, discernment becomes easier, and practice becomes steadier.

đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ˆđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁𑌤𑌤𑍍𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ14āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽ - transformation; change
𑌏𑌕𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because of unity; because of one-ness
đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 - object; thing
𑌤𑌤𑍍𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌮𑍍 - real nature; true status

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The reality of an object rests on the unity of its transformations.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali is engaging a philosophical question: what makes an object an object, even as it changes? He suggests that an object's identity is tied to a coherent stream of transformation. A clay pot changes from wet clay to fired vessel to broken shards, yet there is an intelligible continuity. The object is not a frozen thing; it is a pattern of change held together in a recognizable unity. Seeing objects as streams rather than as static lumps helps loosen grasping, because you stop demanding permanence from what is made to transform.

This has an inner parallel. Your life is also a stream of changes - thoughts, roles, ages, relationships. Suffering grows when you demand that a changing stream be permanent or perfectly controllable. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— invites a wiser relationship: recognize continuity without clinging. The mind can function in the world, but the seer does not have to be trapped by the world's constant turning. When you see change as the nature of things, you stop treating every loss or transition as a personal catastrophe.

In practice, use this insight to loosen rigidity. When you feel stuck in a self-story, remember that you are a stream, not a statue. Change is already happening; your job is to participate skillfully instead of resisting reality. Keep practice steady through changes of work, health, and relationships, and let the breath be your constant reference. This steadiness is the thread that helps you meet transformation without panic, and it makes the mind less brittle.

đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌭𑍇đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌭𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌃 đ‘ŒĒ𑌂đ‘ŒĨ𑌾𑌃 āĨĨ15āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 - object; thing
đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ - in sameness; even when the same
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤 - mind
đ‘ŒŦ𑌃𑌏đ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - due to difference
đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œƒ - of the two (object and mind / or two minds)
đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌭𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌃 - separate; distinct
đ‘ŒĒ𑌂đ‘ŒĨ𑌾𑌃 - paths; courses

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Even with the same object, because minds differ, the course of experience differs.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra captures a truth we see every day: two people can face the same event and live in different worlds. The object may be one, but the mind that meets it carries its own 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾𑌃, preferences, fears, and expectations. So the experience-path diverges. Patanjali is explaining why perception is not purely objective and why inner work is essential for clearer seeing. It also explains why you can misunderstand a situation even when you are sincere: sincerity does not remove conditioning by itself.

This insight has ethical power. Many conflicts persist because we assume our perception is the only valid one. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— encourages humility: my mind is a lens, not a mirror. When you accept that lenses differ, you become more curious and less defensive, and you stop turning disagreement into personal attack. This does not mean "everything is relative"; it means you must refine your lens if you want clearer truth, and you must verify rather than insist. Refining the lens is one of the quiet gifts of meditation.

In practice, when you disagree with someone, pause and ask: what lens might they be using? What past experiences could be shaping their view? Then also ask: what lens am I using, and what am I protecting? This reduces reactivity and increases empathy, and it often leads to better questions and better listening. In meditation, the same principle applies: when a thought seems "true," remember it may be a lens. Return to the witness and let discernment deepen. With time, you become less attached to being right and more devoted to seeing clearly.

𑌨 𑌚𑍈𑌕𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌤𑌂𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌂 đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 𑌤𑌤𑍍đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œ•đ‘Œ‚ 𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 𑌕đ‘Œŋ𑌂 đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘ āĨĨ16āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌨 - not
𑌚 - and
𑌏𑌕 - one; single
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤 - mind
𑌤𑌂𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌮𑍍 - dependent on; governed by
đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 - object; thing
𑌤𑌤𑍍 - that
đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œ•đ‘ŒŽđ‘ - proof; valid means of knowing
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 - then
𑌕đ‘Œŋ𑌂 - what
đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘ - would be

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
An object is not dependent on a single mind; otherwise, what would verify it when that mind is absent?

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali addresses a subtle philosophical trap: if objects existed only as private mental creations, there would be no stable way to speak of a shared world. If one mind alone "made" an object, then when that mind is not engaged, what would count as the object's reality? The sutra suggests that while experience is filtered by mind, the object is not merely the mind's invention. This anchors đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— in a sober realism, not in solipsism.

At the same time, this does not deny the power of perception. We have already seen that different minds experience the same object differently. So Patanjali holds two truths together: there is a world that is not your imagination, and your mind shapes how you meet it. Liberation, then, is not escaping the world; it is escaping distortion and compulsive projection. This is a very practical teaching: you can stop blaming the world for everything and also stop blaming your mind as if it were the whole world.

In practice, this helps in two ways. First, it softens self-centeredness: reality does not revolve around my moods. Second, it encourages humility: my perception may be incomplete. When strong opinions arise, ask what evidence is actually present, and what is merely mental coloring. You can also practice waiting before speaking, so you can check the facts rather than reacting from assumption. This habit of checking reality is a powerful support for both wisdom and peace, especially in relationships where projection easily takes over.

𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍁đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌗𑌾đ‘ŒĒ𑍇𑌕𑍍𑌷đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 𑌚đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌾𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ1𑍭āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍 - that (object)
𑌉đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌗 - coloring; being influenced/tinged
𑌅đ‘ŒĒ𑍇𑌕𑍍𑌷đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - depending on; in reliance upon
𑌚đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - of the mind
đ‘Œĩ𑌸𑍍𑌤𑍁 - object
𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌮𑍍 - known
𑌅𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌮𑍍 - unknown

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
An object is known or unknown depending on whether the mind is engaged and colored by it.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Even if something is right in front of you, it may remain unseen if the mind is elsewhere. Patanjali describes knowing as a relationship: the mind must be "touched" by the object. This touching is called 𑌉đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌗 - coloring. The mind takes the object's form, and then the object becomes known. Without attention, the same object can remain unknown, as if it were not there. This is why distraction is not trivial; it literally changes what is real for you in that moment.

This helps explain many everyday misunderstandings. We do not simply see what is; we see what our mind is tuned to see. Bias, expectation, and distraction all shape 𑌉đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌗. That is why two people can "witness" the same meeting and remember different facts. The sutra encourages a disciplined attention that reduces distortion, because attention is the gateway through which reality becomes knowable. When attention is weak, even truth can pass in front of you unnoticed.

In practice, train the mind to be present with one thing at a time. When reading, read; when listening, listen. If you find yourself missing details, it is often not a memory problem but an attention problem. Meditation strengthens the capacity to let the mind be colored by what is actually present rather than by wandering fantasies. You can test this immediately: give someone two minutes of full listening and notice how different the conversation feels. Clear seeing begins with stable attention, and stable attention begins with choosing one object and returning to it.

𑌸đ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌾𑌃 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œĩđ‘ƒđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ 𑌤𑌤𑍍đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌭𑍋𑌃 đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œˇđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ1𑍮āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌸đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 - always
𑌜𑍍𑌞𑌾𑌤𑌾𑌃 - known
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤 - mind
đ‘Œĩđ‘ƒđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ - modifications; movements
𑌤𑌤𑍍 - that
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌭𑍋𑌃 - of the master; of the lord
đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œˇđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - of the seer; of consciousness
𑌅đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because of unchangeableness

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The mind's movements are always known, because the seer is unchanging.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali now clarifies the relationship between mind and awareness. Thoughts, emotions, and perceptions change constantly, yet you can know them. That knowing capacity is attributed to đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷, the seer, which is described as 𑌅đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œŋ𑌨𑍍 - not changing with what it witnesses. Because awareness itself does not fluctuate like the mind, it can illuminate every fluctuation. A simple metaphor is a lamp: many scenes change in its light, but the light itself does not become each scene. This points the practitioner toward the stable ground of knowing.

This is a decisive insight for practice. If awareness were just another mental event, it would be as unstable as the rest. But the very fact that you can observe instability suggests a stable observer. đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— invites you to rest as that observer. When you remember this, you stop being pushed around by every mental weather pattern. You may still feel sadness or anger, but you are no longer entirely defined by it, because the knower of the state is not the state.

In practice, use simple inquiry: "A thought is present. Who knows it?" Do not answer with another thought; just turn attention to the knowing itself. This shift is subtle but powerful. Over time, the mind learns that it can be seen without being followed, and this changes everything: thoughts lose authority, emotions lose their absolute claim, and choices become freer. Try this during a stressful moment: notice the mind's rush and rest as the knower for a few breaths. That is how reactivity weakens and inner freedom grows.

𑌨 𑌤𑌤𑍍𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌭𑌾𑌸𑌂 đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ1đ‘¯āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌨 - not
𑌤𑌤𑍍 - that (mind)
𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ - self
𑌆𑌭𑌾𑌸𑌮𑍍 - self-illumining; self-luminous
đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because it is seen; because it is an object

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The mind is not self-illuminating, because it is something that is seen.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra protects a crucial distinction: mind is not the same as awareness. The mind appears, changes, and can be observed; therefore it is đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯ - an object. If it were self-luminous, it would not need anything else to be known. But your thoughts are known because awareness is present. This keeps đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— from confusing mental brilliance with spiritual realization, and it also keeps you from making a new ego out of being "smart" or "spiritual." Even the brightest thought is still something seen.

In daily life, we often identify with the mind because it seems to be "me": my opinions, my memories, my plans. Patanjali says: those are contents, not the knower. When you see mind as an object, you gain room to breathe, because you stop treating every thought as a verdict. You can appreciate the mind's function without being possessed by it. This also makes you kinder to yourself: instead of "I am broken," you see "a difficult thought-pattern is present," and that is already more workable.

In practice, when the mind is loud, do not fight it. Notice it. Let it be illuminated without feeding it. This is a gentle form of disidentification: the mind can churn, but the seer remains steady. You can support this by naming what is present ("planning," "worry," "judging") and returning to breath or sensation. As this becomes familiar, the mind naturally quiets because it is no longer rewarded with constant reaction, and even when it does not quiet immediately, it does not enslave you.

𑌏𑌕 đ‘Œ¸đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ đ‘Œšđ‘‹đ‘Œ­đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ§đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖđ‘ŒŽđ‘ āĨĨ20āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌏𑌕 - one
đ‘Œ¸đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ - at a time; in one moment
𑌚 - and
đ‘Œ‰đ‘Œ­đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ§đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - non-determination of both; inability to grasp both together

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
At one time, both cannot be determined together.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali points to a limitation of ordinary cognition: attention tends to take one form at a time. When the mind is fully engaged with an object, it is not simultaneously clear about the process of engagement. When it turns inward to observe itself, the outward object recedes. This supports his earlier claim that the mind is not self-luminous; it cannot fully reveal both itself and its object in the same instant.

Rather than being a problem, this is guidance for practice. To know the mind, you must deliberately turn attention toward the mind's movements. That is why meditation emphasizes "watching" thoughts and sensations. You do not have to solve the mind in the middle of reaction; you can step back and observe it once attention is gathered. This also reduces self-blame: if you cannot be perfectly reflective in the heat of emotion, it is not failure; it is simply how attention functions.

In practice, build meta-awareness gradually. When you notice a strong emotion, first attend to the body: breathing, heat, contraction. Then, once the wave calms a little, look for the mental story attached to it and the urge it is trying to justify. This sequencing respects how attention works. Over time, you will be able to notice the mind sooner and sooner, until awareness is present even in the early stages of reaction. The practical fruit is simple: you catch yourself before you say the thing you regret.

𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌾𑌂𑌤𑌰 đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ đ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧𑍇𑌃 𑌅𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸𑌂𑌗𑌃 𑌸𑍍𑌮𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌸𑌂𑌕𑌰đ‘Œļ𑍍𑌚 āĨĨ21āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤 - mind
𑌅𑌂𑌤𑌰 - another; different
đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡ - when (it is) the seen object
đ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧đ‘Œŋ - intellect; discriminating faculty
đ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧𑍇𑌃 - of an intellect (of intellect); of a buddhi
𑌅𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸𑌂𑌗𑌃 - excessive extension; infinite regress
𑌸𑍍𑌮𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ - memory
𑌸𑌂𑌕𑌰𑌃 - confusion; mixing up
𑌚 - and

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
If one mind were to be known by another, it would lead to infinite regress of intellects and confusion of memory.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali is clarifying how self-knowledge works. If the mind is not self-luminous, you might imagine that another mind must know it. But he points out a problem: if mind A is known by mind B, then mind B must also be known by mind C, and so on without end. This is the 𑌅𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸𑌂𑌗 - an infinite regress that makes explanation impossible. He also notes that if many minds were involved, memories would get mixed, and personal continuity would collapse.

The sutra therefore points to a simpler solution: the knower of mind is not another mind; it is awareness itself. This keeps the structure clean: mind is the seen (đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯), awareness is the seer (đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑌷𑍍𑌟𑍃). đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— practice depends on this clarity. Without it, we keep looking for "another thought" to fix the mind, which only multiplies complexity. This is why rumination feels endless: the mind tries to heal mind with more mind.

In practice, notice when you try to solve thoughts with more thoughts. That loop is the everyday version of infinite regress. Instead, shift from analysis to witnessing. Let awareness notice the mind directly for a few breaths, and feel how the urgency drops. Then you can return to thinking when it is useful, but from a calmer place. Problems become less sticky when they are not constantly fed by self-referential commentary. You may still choose wise actions, but you will act from clarity rather than from spiraling mental recursion.

𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍇𑌰đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ 𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑍌 𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩđ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧đ‘Œŋ 𑌸𑌂đ‘Œĩ𑍇đ‘ŒĻ𑌨𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ22āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍇𑌃 - of consciousness; of awareness
𑌅đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ - which does not transfer/migrate; which does not move into objects
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍 - that
𑌆𑌕𑌾𑌰 - form; shape
𑌆đ‘ŒĒ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑍌 - upon attaining; when it takes on
𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ - one's own
đ‘ŒŦ𑍁đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌧đ‘Œŋ - intellect; mind's discerning faculty
𑌸𑌂đ‘Œĩ𑍇đ‘ŒĻ𑌨𑌮𑍍 - knowing; awareness; cognition

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Because consciousness does not "move" into objects, the mind knows itself when it takes on the form illuminated by that consciousness.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra explains self-awareness without needing another mind. 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋ (pure awareness) does not travel outward like a physical beam. It remains itself, yet it illumines. When the mind is touched by that illumination, it can register not only objects but also its own states. In traditional imagery, the mind is like a clear crystal: when light is present, the crystal seems luminous, even though the light is not produced by the crystal.

This helps make sense of meditation. When awareness is steady, you can notice subtle shifts: a tiny bias, a faint craving, a small contraction. The mind becomes capable of seeing itself because it is "lit up" by 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋ. This is not a mystical extra; it is the basis of transformation. You cannot release what you cannot see, and you cannot heal what you keep denying. As self-seeing improves, practice becomes more precise because you work with the real cause, not with the surface excuse.

In practice, cultivate a quiet attentiveness that is interested but not intrusive. When a thought arises, observe its texture: is it tight or open, heavy or light? Notice the impulse beneath it and the emotion that fuels it. Over time, the mind learns to reveal itself without needing force, and honesty becomes less frightening. You can support this with a short daily reflection after sitting: what did the mind repeatedly reach for today, and what helped it settle? This gentle self-seeing is one of đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—'s most powerful medicines.

đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑌷𑍍𑌟𑍃đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌂 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌂 𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ23āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑌷𑍍𑌟𑍃 - the seer; consciousness
đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯ - the seen; object
𑌉đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - colored; influenced; "tinged"
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - mind
𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩ - all
𑌅𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌮𑍍 - purposes; objects; meanings

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
The mind, colored by both the seer and the seen, can serve all purposes of knowing.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali describes the mind as an interface. It is shaped by objects (đ‘ŒĻ𑍃đ‘Œļđ‘đ‘Œ¯) and illumined by the seer (đ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑌷𑍍𑌟𑍃). Because it can take the form of many objects and still be lit by awareness, it can know countless things. This is why the mind can move through the world: it can mirror forms, meanings, and relationships. Yet, importantly, it remains an instrument - it is useful precisely because it is not the seer.

This sutra also explains why mind can be both helpful and deceptive. Because it takes on shapes, it can take on distorted shapes too: prejudice, fantasy, fear, and self-serving stories. When the seer is forgotten, the mind's coloring becomes compulsive; it starts believing its own projections. When the seer is remembered, the mind's coloring becomes functional: it can represent reality without constantly defending an ego. The difference is not in having a mind versus not, but in whether you are enslaved by it and constantly pushed by its reactions.

In practice, treat the mind as a tool for understanding, not as your identity. Use it to learn, plan, and care for life, but keep returning to the witness. When you feel overwhelmed, remind yourself: "This is a mind-state being colored. I am the knower of it." That single shift restores inner space. Then respond from that space: take one step, speak one honest sentence, do one task fully. From that steadiness, the mind can serve its true purpose without turning into bondage.

𑌤đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡đ‘Œ¯ đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌭đ‘Œŋ𑌃 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌮đ‘ŒĒđ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌂 đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œšđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 āĨĨ24āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑍍 - that (mind)
đ‘Œ…đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘‡đ‘Œ¯ - countless; innumerable
đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌭đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - with latent tendencies; with habit-seeds
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌰𑌮𑍍 - variegated; complex
𑌅đ‘ŒĒđ‘Œŋ - even
đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌮𑍍 - for another's sake
đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œšđ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - in combination; together
𑌕𑌾𑌰đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌤𑍍 - because it acts; because it operates

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Even though the mind is complex with countless tendencies, it exists for another's sake, because it operates as a combined instrument.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali emphasizes purpose. The mind is enormously complex, carrying innumerable đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌸𑌨𑌾𑌃, yet it is not the ultimate subject. It is đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ - for the sake of another - meaning for đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷, the seer. The mind functions as a coordinated system: senses, memory, emotion, and thought work together. That coordination gives it power, but also shows that it is an instrument, not the owner of experience. Complexity does not make it the self; it only makes the instrument more elaborate.

This can reduce inner drama. When you see the mind as a tool, you stop treating every thought as a personal verdict. A thought is just a movement in a complex instrument. It can be skillful or unskillful, but it is not "you." This perspective is liberating because it replaces shame with responsibility: you can tune the instrument without hating it. It also reduces fear, because you realize that mental noise is not a prophecy; it is just conditioning moving.

In practice, relate to your mind the way you would relate to a musical instrument. You maintain it, tune it, and learn how to play it. You do not confuse the instrument with the player. When agitation rises, treat it as a tuning issue: reduce stimulation, return to breath, simplify your schedule, and practice. You can also notice which "strings" are out of tune: sleep, food, unresolved conflict, or overcommitment. Over time, the instrument becomes clearer, and the seer can rest more easily in freedom.

đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œļ𑍇𑌷đ‘ŒĻ𑌰𑍍đ‘Œļđ‘Œŋ𑌨𑌃 𑌆𑌤𑍍𑌮𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌨𑌾𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 āĨĨ25āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œļ𑍇𑌷 - distinction; difference
đ‘ŒĻ𑌰𑍍đ‘Œļđ‘Œŋ𑌨𑌃 - of one who sees; of the discerning one
𑌆𑌤𑍍𑌮𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ - sense of "I am this"; self-identification
𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌨𑌾 - cultivation; habituation
𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - cessation; turning back; stopping

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
For one who clearly discerns the distinction, the habit of self-identifying ceases.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra points to a turning point in the path. When discernment becomes steady, the mind stops habitually declaring, "I am this thought, I am this feeling, I am this role." That habitual cultivation is 𑌆𑌤𑍍𑌮𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ-𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌨𑌾. Patanjali says it can cease. The mind can still function, but the reflex of identification loses its authority. This is one of the clearest markers of freedom: experience continues, but the constant "I-making" weakens.

This is not an achievement you brag about; it is a quiet relief. The mind becomes less defensive because it is not constantly protecting an image. Relationships improve because you can hear feedback without collapsing, and you can apologize without feeling annihilated. Work becomes clearer because you can act without needing every outcome to confirm your worth. The seer is present, and the mind becomes a cooperative servant. Even when emotions arise, they are experienced as waves, not as identity.

In practice, train this discernment in small moments. When you feel criticized, notice the "I am attacked" story and return to "a feeling is arising." When you feel praised, notice the "I am special" story and return to "a pleasant sensation is arising." You can also practice this with boredom, craving, and anxiety - the everyday places where identification is strongest. This repeated disidentification is what makes freedom stable. Over time, selfing drops, and life becomes simpler and kinder because you are no longer constantly defending a constructed self.

𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌕𑌨đ‘Œŋ𑌮𑍍𑌨𑌂 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌾𑌗𑍍𑌭𑌾𑌰𑌂 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ26āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 - then
đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌕 - discernment
𑌨đ‘Œŋ𑌮𑍍𑌨𑌮𑍍 - sloping toward; flowing toward
𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - liberation; freedom
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌾𑌗𑍍𑌭𑌾𑌰𑌮𑍍 - leaning toward; tending toward
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - mind

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Then the mind flows toward discernment and naturally leans toward freedom.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali describes a beautiful shift in momentum. When discernment becomes stable, the mind no longer has to be forced toward clarity; it begins to flow that way on its own. Like water finding a downhill path, 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤𑍍𑌤 becomes đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌕-𑌨đ‘Œŋ𑌮𑍍𑌨 - it slopes toward discernment. And because discernment reveals misidentification, the mind also leans toward 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯, the freedom of the seer. This is what makes advanced practice feel less like struggle and more like natural orientation: the mind prefers truth to self-deception.

This is how practice becomes self-sustaining. Early on, you must repeatedly remember and reorient. Later, the mind prefers truth over confusion. It begins to recognize subtle clinging quickly and releases it. What once required effort becomes the natural baseline. This does not mean life becomes painless, but it means suffering has less glue. The mind is less likely to build a prison out of experience, because it no longer believes every thought and mood is "me."

In practice, support this wholesome momentum by keeping life simple and honest. Avoid feeding patterns that pull you back into agitation, and take care of the body so attention is not constantly drained. Strengthen daily meditation so the mind continues to taste clarity. When you notice the mind leaning toward freedom, do not claim it as achievement; protect it with humility and consistency. Let the river keep flowing, and be patient during dry seasons when old habits briefly return.

𑌤𑌚𑍍𑌛đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑍇𑌷𑍁 đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œŋ đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘‡đ‘Œ­đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ āĨĨ2𑍭āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌤𑍍 - that (discernment/flow)
𑌚đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰𑍇𑌷𑍁 - in the gaps; in the breaks
đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¯ - thought; cognition
đ‘Œ…đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œŋ - other; different
đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ•đ‘Œžđ‘Œ°đ‘‡đ‘Œ­đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ - from latent impressions

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
In the gaps of that, other thoughts arise due to latent impressions.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Even when the mind is strongly inclined toward discernment, old impressions can still surface. Patanjali calls these "gaps" (𑌚đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĻ𑍍𑌰) - moments when attention is not fully established or when vigilance becomes casual. Into those openings, habitual thoughts (đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ) can appear, fueled by 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾𑌃. These 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾𑌃 are like latent grooves: they can show up as a sudden urge, a familiar worry-loop, a remembered hurt, or a subtle need to control. The teaching is realistic and compassionate: đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— does not pretend that conditioning disappears overnight, and it does not shame you for noticing what was already there.

The sutra also gives a practical instruction: do not be surprised when old patterns visit again. Progress is not a straight line; it is a spiral where familiar issues reappear at subtler levels, sometimes wearing a more refined mask. Earlier you may have struggled with obvious anger; later the same energy returns as quiet irritation, moral superiority, or a need to be right. The difference is that you now recognize these movements sooner and feed them less. Each resurfacing becomes an opportunity to complete unfinished purification: you see the pattern, understand its root, and let it pass without turning it into action and identity.

In practice, treat these intrusions as reminders, not failures. When an old desire or fear arises, do not panic, indulge, or argue with it; simply recognize, soften the body, and return to the steady thread of practice. Also watch for "gaps" in daily life: fatigue, transitions, loneliness, and overstimulation are classic entry-points for old conditioning. Protect those moments with extra care - a short pause before opening the phone, a few calm breaths before replying to a message, a deliberate early bedtime when you are drained. If a pattern repeats, note the trigger and build a small safeguard. This is how 𑌸𑌂𑌸𑍍𑌕𑌾𑌰𑌾𑌃 weaken: not by force, but by consistent non-cooperation.

𑌹𑌾𑌨𑌮𑍇𑌷𑌾𑌂 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļđ‘Œĩđ‘ŒĻ𑍁𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ2𑍮āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌹𑌾𑌨𑌮𑍍 - removal; cessation
𑌏𑌷𑌾𑌮𑍍 - of these (other thoughts/impressions)
𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļđ‘Œĩ𑌤𑍍 - like the afflictions (𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ𑌾𑌃)
𑌉𑌕𑍍𑌤𑌮𑍍 - has been said; has been explained

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Their removal is as explained for the afflictions.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali refers you back to earlier teachings on working with 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ𑌾𑌃 - ignorance, egoism, craving, aversion, and fear. The same methods apply here: reduce their subtle forms through meditation, dissolve their fuel through discernment, and weaken their expressions through ethical living and restraint. Earlier he also gave practical levers such as 𑌕𑍍𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¯đ‘Œž-đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— and đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑌕𑍍𑌷-𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌨𑌾 (cultivating the opposite of a harmful tendency). The point is that the mind does not need a brand new technique for each new disturbance; it needs steady application of the core principles until the old grooves lose their persuasive force.

This is encouraging because it simplifies the path. When a new problem appears, you do not have to reinvent practice. You ask: which 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ is operating, and what is feeding it right now? Sometimes more than one is tangled together: craving is propped up by fear, or aversion is justified by ego. Still, the remedy stays intelligible: clarity against confusion, humility against ego, contentment against craving, kindness against aversion, and trust against fear. When you learn to diagnose accurately, you stop fighting symptoms and start meeting causes.

In practice, build a simple troubleshooting habit. When you notice disturbance, name the pattern gently: "craving is here" or "aversion is here," without turning it into a story. Then apply one concrete step: slow breathing, change of posture, a short walk, a truthful conversation, or a return to sitting. If the pattern is social, the antidote may be a pause before speaking; if it is sensory, the antidote may be to remove the stimulus. Repetition is the medicine. Over time, the mind learns that disturbances do not need to be obeyed; they can be met, understood, and released.

đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘‡đ‘ŒŊđ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ¸đ‘€đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ 𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩđ‘ŒĨ𑌾 đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩđ‘‡đ‘Œ•đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘‡đ‘Œƒ 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮𑌮𑍇𑌘𑌸𑍍𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ𑌃 āĨĨ2đ‘¯āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘‡ - in the highest discernment/knowledge; even in deep insight
𑌅đ‘ŒĒđ‘Œŋ - even
𑌅𑌕𑍁𑌸𑍀đ‘ŒĻđ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - of one who is not greedy; not grasping; not seeking gain
𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩđ‘ŒĨ𑌾 - in every way; completely
đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌕 - discernment
đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘‡đ‘Œƒ - of clear vision; of steady recognition
𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮 - 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮; virtue; right order
𑌮𑍇𑌘𑌃 - cloud
𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - meditative absorption

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
For one who is not grasping even for the highest insight, and who has unwavering discernment, there arises the "cloud of dharma" absorption.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
This sutra describes a culminating maturity: letting go even of the desire for knowledge. A seeker may become attached to insight, to subtle understanding, to being "the one who knows," and may start measuring practice by how bright the mind feels. Patanjali says that when a practitioner is 𑌅𑌕𑍁𑌸𑍀đ‘ŒĻ - not greedy even for spiritual gains, not bargaining for special states - and đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍇𑌕-đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘Œŋ is steady, a profound absorption arises: 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮-𑌮𑍇𑌘 𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ, the "cloud of 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮." The phrase đ‘ŒĒđ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œ¸đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ–đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘‡đ‘ŒŊđ‘ŒĒđ‘Œŋ underlines the point: even the highest discriminative knowing is not to be clung to.

The image is rich. A cloud gathers moisture and showers rain naturally, without selecting who deserves it. Likewise, when the mind is saturated with clarity and non-grasping, 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮 - rightness, balance, and beneficence - begins to "rain" through thought, speech, and action without strain. The personality becomes less driven by lack and less noisy with self-display, so life feels more aligned. This is not a moralistic achievement; it is the natural expression of a mind free from craving. It also signals that the deepest seeds are ready to be washed out: subtle attachments lose their nourishment, and the remaining impurities have less place to hide.

In practice, watch for subtle spiritual ambition. Notice the wish to collect experiences, titles, certainty, or even the feeling of being "advanced." Replace it with sincerity: "May I see clearly, and may I be free." Keep practicing with humility, letting insight come and go, and let service and ordinary kindness be part of the training so the ego does not turn practice into self-importance. When action becomes simpler and kinder without effort, you are tasting this "cloud": 𑌧𑌰𑍍𑌮 begins to rain through you, not because you perform it for approval, but because grasping is weakening.

𑌤𑌤𑌃 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 āĨĨ30āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌤𑌃 - from that
𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ - afflictions
𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 - action and its residue
𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œĩ𑍃𑌤𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - cessation; stopping; withdrawal

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
From that follows the cessation of afflictions and karmic momentum.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali states the result plainly: when the mind reaches the maturity described, the roots of suffering stop producing new growth. 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ𑌾𑌃 lose their power to arise in a binding way, and 𑌕𑌰𑍍𑌮 loses its sticky, imprisoning force. Life may still unfold with the momentum of past actions, but the mind does not keep planting new seeds through ignorance and compulsion. This does not mean the body stops functioning or life becomes inactive; it means the inner mechanism that creates bondage - the compulsive chain from confusion to reaction to residue - is no longer running as a controller of identity.

This is why đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— insists on both insight and non-attachment. Insight without letting go can still leave subtle clinging: you understand clearly, yet you keep gripping a preference, a self-image, or a cherished grievance. Letting go without insight can become suppression: you force yourself to "detach" while the root misunderstanding quietly remains. When discernment and non-grasping mature together, the mind no longer manufactures unnecessary suffering. Freedom becomes stable because the causes of bondage are not being recreated, and because the mind learns to meet experience without turning it into "mine" and "me."

In practice, treat this as a direction rather than a badge. Ask every day: what reduces 𑌕𑍍𑌲𑍇đ‘Œļ today, and what action leaves less residue today? Choose one place to be a little more truthful, one place to restrain an impulse, and one place to return to stillness even when you do not feel like it. If you slip, return without self-hatred; that return is part of training. The path is cumulative. Over time, the mind becomes lighter, reactivity reduces, and the deeper freedom becomes imaginable - and then, through steady repetition, real.

𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌾đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ˛đ‘Œžđ‘ŒĒđ‘‡đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘Œœđ‘đ‘Œžđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘ đ‘Œœđ‘đ‘Œžđ‘‡đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘ŒĒ𑌮𑍍 āĨĨ31āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤đ‘ŒĻ𑌾 - then
𑌸𑌰𑍍đ‘Œĩ - all
𑌆đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖ - coverings; veils
𑌮𑌲 - impurities; stains
𑌆đ‘ŒĒđ‘‡đ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - removed; gone away
đ‘Œœđ‘đ‘Œžđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ¸đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - of knowledge
đ‘Œ†đ‘Œ¨đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œ¤đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘ - because of infinitude; because it becomes limitless
đ‘Œœđ‘đ‘Œžđ‘‡đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒŽđ‘ - what is to be known
𑌅𑌲𑍍đ‘ŒĒ𑌮𑍍 - small; little

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Then, because knowledge is free of all veils and stains and becomes limitless, what remains to be known seems very little.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali describes the effect of profound purification on understanding. As veils (𑌆đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŖ) and impurities (𑌮𑌲) drop away, the mind becomes a clearer instrument, and knowledge becomes vast. Not because the person memorizes everything, but because distortion is reduced: attention is steadier, perception is less filtered by craving and fear, and discernment is less clouded by ego-protection. When the lens is clean, the same world becomes more intelligible. Life feels less confusing because projection and bias are weaker, and because you are not constantly rewriting reality to match your likes and dislikes.

This sutra also points to humility. When clarity expands, you see how small your usual obsessions are: the endless need to win, to be noticed, to control outcomes, to replay old hurts. What seemed urgent becomes less urgent; what seemed complex becomes simpler because you can separate facts from your reactions to facts. This is not contempt for life; it is relief from unnecessary mental burden. The mind is no longer cramped by self-centered concerns, so understanding widens naturally, and compassion becomes easier because you are less busy defending a story.

In practice, you can taste this even in small moments. After a good meditation, notice how certain problems look smaller and more workable; use that perspective to respond more wisely instead of reacting from panic. Reduce the habits that dirty the lens: excessive stimulation, dishonesty with yourself, compulsive comparison, and rumination. Put a little more order into daily life - sleep, food, and steady sitting - because clarity grows in a stable body. As the mind becomes cleaner, a quiet confidence grows: not the arrogance of "I know everything," but the peace of "I see enough to live well."

𑌤𑌤𑌃 𑌕𑍃𑌤𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌂 đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œ¸đ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ āĨĨ32āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌤𑌤𑌃 - from that
𑌕𑍃𑌤𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌾𑌨𑌾𑌂 - of those that have fulfilled their purpose
đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽ - transformation
𑌕𑍍𑌰𑌮 - sequence; order
𑌸𑌮𑌾đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - completion; end
đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - of the qualities of nature (đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ)

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
From that, for nature's qualities that have fulfilled their purpose, the sequence of transformation comes to an end.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
In đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—'s view, the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ exist to serve a purpose: providing experience and, ultimately, enabling discernment and freedom for the seer. These qualities - clarity, restlessness, and heaviness - keep transforming (đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽ) in a sequence (𑌕𑍍𑌰𑌮) to generate the changing display of mind and world. When that purpose is fulfilled, their restless turning can cease. This does not mean the universe disappears; it means the binding relationship between mind-nature and the seer is complete. Nature no longer needs to keep producing new patterns to teach the same lesson, because the lesson has been learned.

This is a poetic way to describe the end of compulsion. Most of our inner life is the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ seeking satisfaction: restlessness searching for stimulation, heaviness seeking escape, clarity seeking understanding. When liberation dawns, the searching loses its urgency. The mind still functions - it can plan, speak, remember, and respond - but it is no longer driven by a sense of lack that must be filled. The "hungry turning" of becoming relaxes, and experience is met without the constant push to make it confirm a self.

In practice, you can align with this direction by reducing unnecessary complexity. Choose fewer desires, fewer distractions, fewer identities to protect. Let the mind experience the taste of sufficiency: do one thing at a time, take small periods of silence, and stop turning every free moment into consumption. Each time you do not feed compulsive seeking, you participate in the "completion" Patanjali points to. The mind learns that it can be at rest, and that rest supports deeper discernment and steadier happiness.

đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œˇđ‘ŒŖđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—đ‘€ đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘Œžđ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌂𑌤 𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘Œšđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ 𑌕𑍍𑌰𑌮𑌃 āĨĨ33āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘Œ•đ‘đ‘Œˇđ‘ŒŖ - moment
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—đ‘€ - corresponding; counter-correlated
đ‘ŒĒ𑌰đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽ - transformation
𑌅đ‘ŒĒ𑌰𑌾𑌂𑌤 - at the endpoint; at the far limit
𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘Œšđ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œƒ - not graspable directly
𑌕𑍍𑌰𑌮𑌃 - sequence; succession

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Sequence is correlated with moments and is grasped only at the endpoint of change; it is not directly graspable as it happens.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali offers a subtle observation about time. We do not "see" sequence as a thing; we infer it by noticing change. Only when a transformation reaches an endpoint do we say, "time has passed" or "one moment followed another." The 𑌕𑍍𑌰𑌮 is real as succession, yet it is 𑌨đ‘Œŋđ‘Œ°đ‘đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘Œ°đ‘Œžđ‘Œšđ‘đ‘Œ¯ - you cannot hold it as an object in the same way you hold a thought or a sensation.

This insight matters for liberation because it loosens fixation on time. Much suffering is time-based: regret about the past and anxiety about the future. When you see that time is experienced through the mind's changes, you realize that freedom is available in the present seeing itself, not in a perfected future moment. The seer is not aging; only appearances change. This does not deny practical time, but it weakens the existential grip of time, because you stop expecting tomorrow to deliver what only clarity in the present can provide.

In practice, use this as a meditation pointer. Notice how the sense of "time passing" increases when the mind is restless and decreases when the mind is steady. When you are fully present, time feels lighter. Train presence in small tasks: eating, walking, listening. This does not make you careless about schedules; it makes you less imprisoned by mental time. That freedom supports the deeper release described in this chapter.

đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨđ‘Œļđ‘‚đ‘Œ¨đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘Œ‚ đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘Œ‚đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸đ‘Œĩ𑌃 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ‚ 𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌷𑍍𑌠𑌾 đ‘Œĩ𑌾 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘Œļ𑌕𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌰đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋ āĨĨ34āĨĨ

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷 - the seer; consciousness
𑌅𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ - purpose; aim
đ‘Œļđ‘‚đ‘Œ¨đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - of those empty of; devoid of
đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¨đ‘Œžđ‘ŒŽđ‘ - of the qualities of nature (đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ)
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸đ‘Œĩ𑌃 - reabsorption; return to the source
𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘Œ‚ - liberation; aloneness/independence of the seer
𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ - own nature
đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌷𑍍𑌠𑌾 - establishment; abiding
đ‘Œĩ𑌾 - or
𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋ - consciousness
đ‘Œļ𑌕𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ𑌃 - power; principle
𑌇𑌤đ‘Œŋ - thus

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Liberation is the return of nature's qualities to their source when they no longer serve the seer, or the establishment of consciousness in its own nature - thus.

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
Patanjali ends with a compact definition of liberation. When the đ‘Œ—đ‘đ‘ŒŖđ‘Œžđ‘Œƒ no longer have any purpose for đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷, they "return" (đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌤đ‘Œŋđ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌸đ‘Œĩ) - the restless production of experience winds down back toward its source. In other words, the outward drive of nature to construct identity and drama reverses, because the seer has already seen through it. From the standpoint of the seer, this is 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯: awareness stands alone, not because the world is hated, but because misidentification is gone. The mind can appear and function, yet it no longer binds or demands that awareness shrink into a role.

He also offers an inward definition: liberation is 𑌚đ‘Œŋ𑌤đ‘Œŋ-đ‘Œļ𑌕𑍍𑌤đ‘Œŋ established in 𑌸𑍍đ‘Œĩ𑌰𑍂đ‘ŒĒ, its own nature. This echoes the earlier aim of đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—: the seer abiding as itself, not borrowed from thought, emotion, or circumstance. When this is stable, life may continue with its changes, but the deepest center is unshaken. Joy and sorrow can arise, yet they do not define the self. You can engage the world fully while resting inwardly as the witness, like a person watching changing scenes without forgetting they are the watcher.

In practice, hold this as both inspiration and direction. Liberation is not achieved by dramatic effort; it is revealed by steady disidentification. Keep doing the basics: ethical living, steady sitting, honest self-observation, and non-attachment to outcomes. Notice the mind's patterns and return to the witness. Over time, the sense of "I am the mind" fades, and the peace of "I am awareness" becomes more natural. That is the heart of 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯.

𑌇𑌤đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒđ‘Œžđ‘Œ¤đ‘Œ‚đ‘Œœđ‘Œ˛đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—đ‘ŒĻ𑌰𑍍đ‘Œļ𑌨𑍇 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑍋 𑌨𑌾𑌮 𑌚𑌤𑍁𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌃 đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑌃 āĨ¤

Meaning (đ‘ŒĒđ‘ŒĻ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
𑌇𑌤đ‘Œŋ - thus; end marker
đ‘ŒĒ𑌾𑌤𑌂𑌜𑌲 - of Patanjali
đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— - đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ—
đ‘ŒĻ𑌰𑍍đ‘Œļ𑌨 - teaching/system; "view"
𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ - liberation
đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ𑌃 - chapter
𑌨𑌾𑌮 - named
𑌚𑌤𑍁𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ𑌃 - fourth

Translation (𑌭𑌾đ‘Œĩ𑌾𑌰𑍍đ‘ŒĨ):
Thus ends the fourth chapter of Patanjali's Yoga teaching, called "The Chapter on Liberation."

Commentary (𑌅𑌨𑍁𑌸𑌂𑌧𑌾𑌨):
𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ closes the đ‘Œ¯đ‘‹đ‘Œ— Sutras by showing what the whole path was pointing to: a mind that is purified and useful, and a seer that is free. The chapter explains liberation not as a vague bliss, but as the end of misidentification. When the mind is seen clearly as an instrument of đ‘ŒĒ𑍍𑌰𑌕𑍃𑌤đ‘Œŋ, it can no longer imprison đ‘ŒĒ𑍁𑌰𑍁𑌷. This is not a rejection of the mind; it is the mind placed in its proper role. It becomes a servant of clarity rather than a master of identity, and experience is met without the constant compulsion to own it.

Read the arc of the four chapters as a single training: define steadiness, build discipline, understand the power of attention, and then release even subtle clinging. 𑌸𑌮𑌾𑌧đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ gives the definition and the direction; 𑌸𑌾𑌧𑌨 đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ gives the practical disciplines; đ‘Œĩđ‘Œŋ𑌭𑍂𑌤đ‘Œŋ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ shows how attention becomes powerful and why even that power should not become a trap; and 𑌕𑍈đ‘Œĩđ‘Œ˛đ‘đ‘Œ¯ đ‘ŒĒ𑌾đ‘ŒĻ describes the final ungluing. Patanjali is uncompromising about the last step: freedom is not more experience, it is less bondage. When grasping ends, the deepest peace becomes possible, and life can be lived with simplicity instead of inner bargaining.

In practice, let the ending become a beginning. Choose one small daily act that reduces clinging: a mindful pause before reacting, a simpler schedule, a truthful conversation, a few minutes of quiet sitting, or one deliberate moment of letting go of being right. Keep returning to the witness, again and again, until it feels more familiar than your inner noise. Revisit the sutras slowly over time; they are designed to reveal deeper meaning as your practice matures. This is how the teaching moves from philosophy to lived freedom.




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