Gita 06.19 – Minimize the wind of disturbing desires to maximize the flame of meditation
yathā dīpo nivāta-stho
neṅgate sopamā smṛtā
yogino yata-cittasya
yuñjato yogam ātmanaḥ (Bg 6.19)
Word-for-word:
yathā — as; dīpaḥ — a lamp; nivāta-sthaḥ — in a place without wind; na — does not; iṅgate — waver; sā — this; upamā — comparison; smṛtā — is considered; yoginaḥ — of the yogī; yata-cittasya — whose mind is controlled; yuñjataḥ — constantly engaged; yogam — in meditation; ātmanaḥ — on transcendence.
Translation:
As a lamp in a windless place does not waver, so the transcendentalist, whose mind is controlled, remains always steady in his meditation on the transcendent Self.
Explanation:
yathā dīpo nivāta-stho: Just as a lamp placed in a windless spot
neṅgate sopamā smṛtā: does not waver, this is the analogy presented
yogino yata-cittasya: for the yogī whose mind is fully controlled,
yuñjato yogam ātmanaḥ: his consciousness remains steadily fixed on the self through the practice of yoga.
We know from experience that when we use candles or lamps, even a slight breeze can cause the flame to flicker or go out. In earlier times, when lamps were used more frequently, they were often shielded with some covering so that, even if a sudden gust of wind arose, the flame would remain protected and not be extinguished.
In the same way, our consciousness can stay focused on something only when two conditions are met—first, there is a genuine attraction to or determination to concentrate on that object; and second, there are minimal distractions pulling our attention away.
Just as a student prepares for an important exam the next day or studies a subject he genuinely enjoys, the presence of a clear reason, desire, or determination enables focused attention on the task at hand. However, even with strong intent, concentration becomes difficult when there are too many distractions. If the student sincerely wants to study but others are talking nearby or loud music is playing, it becomes almost impossible to focus.
Similarly, in the practice of yoga, when one seeks to focus on the inner truth and attain self-realisation, one must cultivate the desire and determination to realize the ātman—to understand and live according to one’s true nature. Alongside this aspiration, the distractions that hinder such focus need to be removed.
Just as the student may choose to study in a library or a quiet room that is conducive to concentration, the yogī too must avoid anything that draws the mind away from the self. Chief among such distractions are desires, especially worldly desires. These desires are like gusts of wind that cause the lamp of consciousness to flicker and waver.
Kṛṣṇa has already spoken in the previous verse (nispṛhaḥ sarva-kāmebhyo) about giving up worldly desires. By doing so, He emphasizes that everyone needs to renounce such desires. To the extent that we can reject and become free from them—thereby becoming purified—to that extent our inner purpose will remain at the forefront of our consciousness.
At this stage, the yogīs have not yet realised Kṛṣṇa directly; therefore, their focus is on the ātman. Freed from worldly desires, they are able to concentrate steadily on the self.
To a large extent, we cannot stop the wind, but we can move to a place where it is less intense. For instance, if someone wants to light a candle, they will not place it right next to the door, because the wind can come in from anywhere. Instead, they will keep it a little farther away from the door.
In the same way, to focus our consciousness, we must position ourselves wisely. Since our consciousness is not truly separate from us, keeping ourselves away from sources of distraction helps us maintain focus. These sources of distraction may vary from person to person.
The phrase in verse 6.11, śucau deśe pratiṣṭhāpya, essentially refers to externally creating a situation that is nivāta-sthaḥ—a place free from distracting influences or “wind.” This verse highlights the importance of arranging one’s surroundings in a way that supports focus and concentration.
The lamp in a windless place serves as a metaphor for seekers, illustrating the need to avoid the distracting winds of desires. Each of us can identify which desires trouble us the most, and through introspection, we can recognize when these gusts of distraction arise strongly.
It is similar to living in an area prone to storms. People there carefully observe the weather patterns like dark gray skies, strong gutsy winds to predict when a storm might come. In general, storms also follow seasonal patterns, allowing one to anticipate and prepare for them in advance.
Similarly, we can observe our own consciousness to recognize when the winds of distraction are likely to arise and identify actions we might unwittingly take that invite these disturbances. By understanding these two aspects, we can consciously avoid situations that lead to entanglement in material desires.
In this way, we remain steady in our spiritual pursuit. Yogīs can continue progressing along the path of yoga, and devotees can advance unwaveringly in their journey toward Kṛṣṇa.
The principles discussed here are applicable not only to yogīs in general but also to us as devotees, as practitioners of bhakti-yoga. Kṛṣṇa will explicitly discuss bhakti-yoga in several verses throughout this chapter, ultimately establishing it as the highest form of yoga by the chapter’s conclusion.
However, the principles for the practice of yoga outlined here are relevant to yogīs of various streams; they are not limited to aṣṭāṅga-yogīs alone, but apply equally to bhakti-yogīs.
By carefully observing and identifying the desires, situations, and temptations that divert our attention from Kṛṣṇa, and by wisely minimizing, avoiding, or eliminating them in accordance with what is practical and beneficial, we can develop an inner steady focus on Kṛṣṇa.
Thank you.
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