Gita 6.4
Dhyana Yoga
यदा हि नेन्द्रियार्थेषु न कर्मस्वनुषज्जते | सर्वसङ्कल्पसन्न्यासी योगारूढस्तदोच्यते ||४||
yadā hi nendriyārtheṣu na karmasv anuṣajjate | sarva-saṅkalpa-sannyāsī yogārūḍhas tadocyate ||4||
In essence: Yoga is not what you do, but what you have stopped clinging to—when all mental scheming ceases, you have arrived.
A conversation between a seeker and guide to help you feel this verse deeply
Sadhak-Guru Dialogue
Sadhak: "Guruji, I have been practicing yoga for years—asana, pranayama, meditation. But you're saying yoga is about what falls away, not what I practice?"
Guru: "Your practices are the climbing. This verse describes reaching the summit. A climber on the mountain does many things—ropes, ice axes, careful steps. But one who has reached the peak simply stands there, doing nothing, having arrived. The practices are valid—they prepare you, purify you, train the mind. But the arrival is characterized by stillness, not by more activity."
Sadhak: "Not attached to sense objects I can understand—reduce craving for pleasures. But 'not attached to actions'? I thought the Gita teaches us to act! Karma yoga is action!"
Guru: "Beautiful question. Karma yoga is action without attachment to the action itself—performing duty without identifying as the doer, without grasping the results. In the yogārūḍha state, action may still happen—the body moves, words are spoken—but there is no psychological clinging. The sage acts but is not attached to acting. They could act or not act with equal ease. The compulsion to act, the identity as 'actor,' the anxiety about doing enough—these have dissolved."
Sadhak: "What exactly is saṅkalpa? You said it's mental resolve—but isn't some intention necessary to live?"
Guru: "Saṅkalpa is the mind's constant project-making: 'Tomorrow I will do this. Next year I will achieve that. I need to secure this outcome.' It is future-manufacturing driven by desire and fear. Renouncing all saṅkalpa doesn't mean becoming a vegetable—it means the mind stops its anxious scheming. Necessary decisions arise spontaneously from wisdom, not from psychological craving. The sage still makes choices, but without the feverish planning that most call 'intention.' Their action emerges from presence, not from projected futures."
Sadhak: "But if I stop planning and intending, won't my life fall apart? How will I accomplish anything?"
Guru: "This is the mind's fear speaking—the belief that only anxious planning produces results. Observe: does the anxious planner actually produce better outcomes, or just more stress? The saṅkalpa-free mind acts with tremendous clarity because it is not distracted by worry about outcomes. Intelligence functions more purely when not clouded by desire and fear. Your life won't fall apart; it will become more coherent. But you must test this through practice, not just believe my words."
Sadhak: "What does yogārūḍha feel like from the inside? How would I know if I've arrived?"
Guru: "It feels like profound ease. The mind is naturally quiet—not suppressed, but content. Sense objects can be present without creating craving or aversion; you appreciate without grasping. Actions can be performed without the burden of doership—they arise and complete themselves without 'you' struggling. There's no inner commentary constantly evaluating, planning, worrying. And crucially, there's no anxiety about whether you've 'arrived'—that question itself dissolves. The one who worries about arrival hasn't arrived; the one who has arrived has forgotten the question."
Sadhak: "Is this state permanent once reached? Or can one fall back?"
Guru: "Krishna will address this. Some attain it and stabilize there; some touch it and slip back when circumstances provoke old patterns. The term 'yogārūḍha' suggests stability—one has ascended and established oneself there. But vigilance and continued practice help stabilize what has been attained. The important point is that this state exists, it is attainable, and it is characterized by freedom from attachment—not by exotic experiences or special powers."
Sadhak: "Renouncing attachment seems to require tremendous willpower. How can I develop such renunciation?"
Guru: "True renunciation is not willpower suppressing desire—that creates tension, not freedom. It comes from seeing clearly that attachment brings suffering, and that what you truly are needs nothing from objects or actions to be complete. This seeing cannot be forced; it matures through practice and inquiry. Begin by observing attachment when it arises—don't suppress it, just see it clearly. See what it promises and what it delivers. Over time, clear seeing loosens attachment naturally. You don't rip yourself from attachments; they fall away when you see through them."
Sadhak: "How does this verse connect to the verses that follow about the self being its own friend or enemy?"
Guru: "This verse describes the arrival point; the next verses explain how to get there. Verse 5 will say you must uplift yourself by yourself—no one else can renounce your attachments for you. Verse 6 distinguishes the self as friend (when it has conquered attachment) from self as enemy (when attachment rules). So this verse states the destination, and the following verses elaborate the journey and the internal dynamics involved. Together they form a complete teaching on self-transformation through yoga."
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🌅 Daily Practice
Begin with a 'saṅkalpa inventory.' Before rising, notice the mind's automatic generation of plans, worries, and intentions for the day. Don't suppress them—just observe how the mind manufactures futures. See the quality of these mental constructions: are they arising from wisdom or from anxiety? From genuine necessity or from habit? Practice 'saṅkalpa release': take three deep breaths and with each exhale, consciously release one mental projection. Not 'I won't think about it' but 'I don't need to carry this anxiety.' Then sit for 10-15 minutes in meditation with a simple focus: each time a plan or intention arises, note it as 'planning' and return to presence. You're not stopping planning—you're becoming aware of the mind's planning habit. Over time, this awareness naturally reduces compulsive saṅkalpa and allows necessary planning to emerge from clarity rather than craving.
Practice 'attachment spotting' throughout the day. When you notice tension, anxiety, or compulsion—pause and ask: 'What am I attached to right now?' Is it attachment to a sense object (comfort, pleasure, approval)? Attachment to an action (needing to do, needing to achieve)? Attachment to a mental resolve (anxious planning)? Simply naming the attachment begins to loosen it. Practice 'action without attachment' during one routine task: do it fully, skillfully, but without psychological investment in being the doer or in the outcome. Wash dishes as if the universe is washing dishes through you. Complete work tasks as offerings rather than accomplishments. Notice how this shift in orientation changes the quality of action and of your inner state.
Evening reflection: review the day not for achievements but for attachments. Where did attachment arise? Where did it release? Where did saṅkalpa (anxious planning) dominate consciousness? No self-judgment—just honest seeing. Then practice 'complete letting go' before sleep. Lie down and consciously release attachment to everything from the day—successes, failures, pleasures, pains. Release attachment to tomorrow—it will unfold as it unfolds. Feel yourself becoming light, unburdened. The state you fall asleep in influences the state you wake into. If you can fall asleep having released all saṅkalpa, you will wake with unusual clarity. This practice is preparation for the ultimate letting go that death requires—learning to release while still living so that release becomes natural.