Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #34 – The Yoga-sūtras and Consciousness-Altering Herbs (Drugs)

August 24th, 2026

I recently watched a podcast in which a devotee talked about ayahuasca as a legitimate means of elevating consciousness. He supported his claim by quoting the Yoga-sūtras 4.1.

 

My purpose here is not to invalidate a person’s experience. Honestly, I don’t know enough about shamanistic practices to comment on that.[1]

 

I do know, however, the Yoga-sūtras. A close analysis of the text does not support the claim that drugs (herbal or chemical) are a legitimate means of yogic attainment. Here is the verse:

 

“Accomplishments (siddhis) arise from birth, auṣadhi (healing herb), mantra, austerity, and samādhi.”

 

The important thing here is to pay close attention to what Patañjali actually says.

 

He is not saying that auṣadhi elevates or purifies consciousness. All that he is saying is that siddhis (extraordinary accomplishments or powers) can arise from various sources such as birth, auṣadhi, mantra, austerity and samādhi.

 

What are these astonishing powers? They are certainly extraordinary, involving various ways of altering consciousness, but they remain material. This becomes clearer in the ancient commentator Vyāsa’s commentary on this verse. In his discussion of preparations that produce special abilities, Vyāsa includes asuras—beings who can acquire such powers through substances.

 

Vyāsa clearly is making the important distinction between mystic power (siddhis) and spiritual advancement. If an extraordinary capacity can be obtained through a substance, and even an asura can possess it, then the possession of that capacity cannot by itself be evidence of spiritual realization.

 

This is consistent with something Patañjali says earlier in the Yoga-sūtras.

 

“These powers may be accomplishments for the outward-moving mind, yet they become obstacles to the stillness of samādhi.” Y.S. 3.37

 

In other words, siddhi, meaning perfection or power, can entice the mind outward into the realm of prakti for wonder and pleasure, rather than encouraging it to withdraw from prakti, or material nature. In this way, siddhis can become obstacles to the attainment of samādhi.

 

But why, then, does Patañjali introduce the fourth pāda of the Yoga-sūtras, the Kaivalya Pāda, by discussing the causes of siddhis in its first sūtra, when kaivalya literally refers to the final stage of liberation, in which the soul becomes free from the fetters of matter, especially when the first sūtra of a chapter usually indicates its theme?

 

To answer this, you must return to the previous chapter, the Vibhūti Pāda, which concerns extraordinary powers. There, Patañjali seeks both to inform and encourage the yogi: advanced yoga can produce siddhis that transform consciousness in extraordinary ways, but these powers should not be mistaken for the ultimate purpose of yoga, which is to withdraw the mind from external distractions and turn it inward toward liberation.[2]

 

Patañjali therefore begins the fourth and final chapter, on kaivalya (liberation), by returning to the subject of siddhis discussed in the previous chapter, precisely to distinguish extraordinary accomplishments from liberation. In doing so, he clears away a potential confusion: altering consciousness is not necessarily the same as liberating consciousness. Having clarified this distinction, he then turns to the subject of the final pāda and the ultimate goal of yoga: the nature of kaivalya itself.[3]

 

As my writing is grounded in the bhakti perspective of my own tradition, let me conclude by approaching this subject from a devotional viewpoint. Although heightened awareness and the perception of God in nature can certainly support the path of devotion, the devotee never seeks siddhis for their own sake, nor is the goal merely to attain some extraordinary state of awareness. The devotee’s single focus is a transformation of the heart—to become more humble, more compassionate, more eager to serve, and, ultimately, to awaken one’s loving relationship with God. Thus, in a manner consistent with Patañjali’s treatment of the subject, the devotee does not regard the experience of auṣadhi as an ultimate attainment.

 


[1] Also, there are aspects of shamanistic meditation that seem consistent with certain elements of the Gauḍīya tradition, particularly the cultivation of an awareness of God’s presence within nature. This is something I am sure many of us feel the need to cultivate more deeply. As Śrī Nārada says:

“One can reach perfection by honoring even a blade of grass—provided one sees within it the presence of the Supreme Lord…” Bhad-bhāgavatāmta 2.4.210

[2] Although Patañjali warns that any outward awareness, however wondrous, can become an obstacle to yoga, the text does not treat every awareness produced by siddhis as categorically dangerous. Indeed, 1.35 explicitly develops a meditation technique from recognizing the utility of certain siddhi-born forms of awareness as the very object (ālambana) of continued meditation.

[3] Although the profound alteration of ordinary consciousness produced by auṣadhi can be risky, it may also have an indirect spiritual effect by revealing to the user that ordinary perception does not exhaust the possibilities of experience, thereby opening the consciousness to the search for a more spiritual approach to life. For example, many older devotees have credited their experiences with LSD as impelling them to seek a mystical approach to life and ultimately leading them toward the path of bhakti.