What are they good for?
When I was being assessed for teaching certification at the Introductory II level of Iyengar Yoga, one of the assessors spoke emphatically on the use of the karmendriyas in teaching our beginner students. The karmendriyas are the organs of action: in our asana practice, we are primarily concerned with the arms and the legs, but these organs of action also include our genital organs, excretory organs and our speech. More on that later. My assessor pointed out the importance of teaching to our students that not only do we need to activate these organs of action, our arms and our legs, but to do so enthusiastically and to nudge open our limits in asana with the help of them.
In my teaching, I had found that I was sometimes hesitant, or cautious, to overdo this. I want my students to practice thoughtfully, and to not injure themselves. This is a well-intentioned sentiment but is not correct to hold back. Beginner students in particular, but all of us at different stages of our yogic journey, must activate our arms and legs to gain sensitivity and movement in the more rooted areas in our body, like our pelvis, abdomen, chest and back. This, I believe, is part of the ideology behind teaching beginners the standing poses first and for a long period of time. This is the base of our asana practice in the Iyengar Yoga tradition, and in fact, we can learn much about all the families of asanas through a solid foundation in the standing poses. We must activate our arms and legs to draw our bones into correct alignment, to firm the flesh and to enliven and sensitize the skin.
Karmendriyas in Triangle Pose
Imagine performing Utthita Trikonasana, triangle pose, without really engaging the arms and legs. Can you picture it? I see a weak stance, with floppy knees, and an arched torso over the turned out leg, with the lower hand braced upon the shin bone, just below the knee and the upward stretched arm, nebulously reaching somewhere up in the air, without strong direction.
Now, the practitioner, if he or she is not particularly limber will feel some strong sensations of discomfort and thus think that he or she is working hard. They may be working hard, but they are not working correctly. Nine times out of ten, they will feel discomfort in the knee of the turned out leg that they are bracing their weight upon, a stretch in the inner groin of that leg as well, a constricted feeling in their chest and lungs, and maybe pain in their neck if they are attempting to turn their head. If the practitioner is limber, then this pose will be utterly unsatisfying and they will be left with a lost and confused feeling, because they were close enough to smell the aroma of the asana, but not close enough to taste it.
Let’s try Utthita Trikonasana again, this time activating our arms and legs. First, we will take a larger stance between our legs, spreading them wider than we would normally. Rooting the four corners of our feet to the floor, while simultaneously lifting the arches of the feet, already begins to have an energizing effect on the muscles of the legs. Beyond that, the turning out of the “front” leg is an action from that hip joint and needs to be supported by the external rotation of the front thigh and the lifting of the kneecap. This begins aligning ankle, shin, knee, thigh and hip. The buttock of that same leg continues the rotating journey and draws towards the tailbone and into the body.
The “back” leg has an equally important, though perhaps less showy job than the “front” leg. He is the anchor and stabilizer to the forward moving momentum of the pose. By slicing down the outer edge of the foot and lifting the arch, both the outer and inner leg are woken up. The kneecap is also lifted here and the front thigh sucks into the bone and moves back, subtly transferring the weight of the anchor more towards the heel and less on the toes. In effect, both legs occupy the same plane of space with these actions. Now shift the pelvis slightly towards the back leg, whilst extending the torso in opposition over the turned out leg. Reach with the lower arm, moving the ribs and waist to find length in the underside of the body. Eventually, you reach your maximum, then you reach just a bit further with that arm and see if you can get to your ankle to grasp with that hand. Glide the shoulder blade down and into the back ribs.
In opposition to the reach of the lower arm, stretch up in a straight line towards the ceiling your top arm. With maximum extension, reach with your entire inner arm, from the armpit to the soft fleshy tips of your fingers. Maintaining that, draw the skin of the back of the hand, forearm, and deltoid back into the direction of the torso, connecting the arm to the shoulder and shoulder blade, so that both shoulder blades here are matched and engaged into the back ribs.
Suddenly, with the arms and legs working this intensively, there is space for movement in the tailbone, the lower abdomen, the diaphragm, ribs and upper chest. They can begin to turn and lift in the direction of the ceiling. Finally, there may also be a natural urge to rotate the head, and to look upwards, following the path already set. Karmendriyas in action.
Different experience entirely, right? Obviously, I gave many basic instructions here, summarizing actions that cannot be learned in a single first class. Not to mention, that there are many more basic instructions that I didn’t cover, and numerous more advanced subtleties to be practiced. But I hope I was able to convey how the usage of our karmendriyas, in the form of our arms and legs, can bring about a deeper experience for the practitioner in their entire body.
Speech as a Karmendriya
Let’s explore a bit deeper the why the karmendriyas are the karmendriyas. As noted earlier, they are the organs of action, deriving from the Sanskrit words karma, action, and indriya, organ or sense. Included in the karmendriyas are also our genital organs, excretory organs, and speech. This reminds me of the Sesame Street game, “Which one of these things is not like the other?” Arms, legs, genitals, excretory organs and speech. Speech, unlike the others, is neither an organ nor a limb. It is verbal communication, which is not something of tangible physical matter, like the others (or is it?).
So, how does speech fit in and what can we learn about the other organs of action by its inclusion? The organs of action take us somewhere. They lead us down a certain path, sometimes without our conscious consent, but outwardly directed. With them, we walk, grasp, reproduce, remove impurities from the body and communicate. They are our basic means of survival as individuals and as a species. Oftentimes, our usage of them is voluntary, other times, less controlled, more reactive, and other times yet, completely involuntary.
Speech also takes us somewhere. How often have our words made an impact, sometimes hurtful, and the consequences cannot be undone? They can also positively impact…well timed and well communicated words can encourage, inspire, reassure and educate. They can save a life.
In terms of our yoga practice, the instructive and guiding words of our teachers help us along in our journeys. There are also written words in the many great texts available to us. Speech and language have evolved as necessary and important tools for communication and expression. Yet, they are limited. Just like the other organs of action, the other karmendriyas are important and useful but also limited. As such, we must first learn how to activate them, consciously, with control and discretion. To be moderate in our usage of them, to use them for engaging both in our yoga practice and with others, but not for harm. To be nonviolent, again with ourselves and with others.
Our learning is not just how to activate them, but also how and when to subdue them. They are active and expressive, and as such outwardly focused. We tend to be very connected to the fruits of our actions, in our creativity and production. All great and wonderful things. We are built as a communicating, expressive, active being. But this expressive journey is only half of our journey. Just as the physical engagement of the karmendriyas in our yoga practice can nudge movement and awareness into our physical core, so too we look to nudge movement and awareness into our inner core.
The Other Half of the Coin – the Jnanendriyas
As we quiet our expressiveness, quiet our activity and production, we can begin to directly experience the world. Our ears open, our nose attunes to the elements around, the tongue relaxes in the mouth, the eyes release and widen in a peripheral gaze that takes in far more than is directly in front of them, and even the skin enlivens and becomes an intelligent receptor of information. These are the jnanendriyas, the five senses of perception. Though subtler than the organs of action, these senses play an important role in our engagement with the world. The practice of mindfulness aims at heightening our awareness of their perception. Similarly to the process with the karmendriyas, once we’ve developed the ability to articulate them, then we look to master and suppress them at our will. There is an equal inward journey, matching our expressive engagement with the outer world, whereby the organs of action and our senses of perception begin to dissolve in their activity, and the journey of involution begins.
Withdrawing of the senses, the practice of pratyahara, is a topic for another time, but our development in all of this is a bit like that of any child’s normal development of gross and fine motor skills and language. First, we must learn how to activate and use our organs and speech. Then we learn greater control and discrimination in their usage. We learn the power of our words, the power of our bodies. As we mature, hopefully we learn the importance of how and when to disengage from them. Without grabbing for something, without the constructs of language, without rushing to an outcome. To be still, outside and inside, without words.
And it all starts with a strong triangle pose…;)