244. Red lenses? Prakriti coloured glasses?

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra 2.20 brings us deeper into the discussion of the Seer and the way we experience the world. The sutra states:

dṛṣṭā dṛśimātraḥ śuddho 'pi pratyayānupaśyaḥ

• dṛṣṭā – the Seer, the witness, the one who sees

• dṛśi-mātraḥ – pure seeing, awareness itself

• śuddhaḥ api – even though it is pure

• pratyaya-anupaśyaḥ – appears to see through the mental modifications (pratyaya)

This verse is an essential reminder that while the Seer (Purusha, the capital S-Self) is ever-present and unchanging, its perception of reality is always filtered through the modifications of the mind (citta-vṛttis). Just as a clear lake reflects the sky above it, the mind reflects the world around us—but if the lake is disturbed, the reflection becomes distorted. In the same way, when the mind is clouded by thoughts, emotions, and conditioning, we mistake its ever-changing reflections for reality itself.

Swami Satchidananda provides an illuminating analogy in his commentary on this sutra. He describes how pure white light, when passing through a red crystal, appears red—even though the light itself remains unchanged. This is precisely how our true Self—Purusha—is colored by the ever-shifting nature of Prakṛti (the material world). We do not see things as they are; we see them as our mind conditions them to be. This creates layers of misidentification, entangling us further in illusion (Māyā).

A modern example of this distortion is communication through texting. When we receive a message, it is stripped of tone, facial expressions, and body language. The mind instinctively fills in the gaps, often influenced by our current emotions, past experiences, or insecurities. A simple message like “okay” can be read as neutral, irritated, or dismissive, depending on our mental state. This is the citta-vṛttis at work, shaping our perception not according to reality, but according to our conditioning. This is precisely how we experience the world every day—our mind constantly interpreting, assuming, and coloring reality with its own narrative.

The core teaching here is that we are not our stories. The voice in our heads, the emotions that arise, the mental commentary we create—these are all passing phenomena. They are part of Prakṛti, not Purusha. The goal of yoga is to recognize this distinction and cultivate the ability to observe without immediately identifying with or reacting to what arises in the mind.

So what can we do? Cultivate mindfulness. But here’s the trick: mindfulness is not just about noticing what’s happening—it’s about noticing without reacting. It’s about stepping back and watching thoughts as they arise and pass, rather than getting caught in them. This is why meditation is such a central practice in yoga—it trains us to observe without entanglement.

For those who journal, writing down difficult thoughts and emotions can be a helpful practice. Journaling creates space between the thinker and the thought, allowing us to step back and recognize patterns rather than becoming lost in them. Another powerful practice is taking mindful walks—leaving behind distractions like music or podcasts and simply being present with each step, each breath, each moment.

And most importantly, remember: "Don’t let the yoga get you down." The journey to self-awareness is not about perfection; it’s about practice. There will be days when the mind feels turbulent and days when it feels clear, but the work you are doing is valuable. The answers you seek will come in time. Trust the process, and keep going.