Listen, then, to the sacred teaching on the path of yoga, as revealed in the scripture. The vital force that animates each being—the life-breath—is the subtle air born within one’s own body. To regulate this inner current is to practice restraint, a discipline known as prāṇāyāma. This practice of breath control is said to be of two kinds: one involving the retention of breath, and the other without retention. Among these, the intermediate form of restraint—where the breath is held for a measure of thirty-six counts—is held to be the highest. Within the gradations of slow, intermediate, and chief forms, the supreme of the supreme arises, bringing forth a blissful state. Such is the true hallmark of breath-control for yogis. When a mantra is recited thrice while the breath is held, this is regarded as authentic breath-control. All the scriptures proclaim this, and yogis who strive diligently uphold it as the path. When the breath is perfectly balanced and held steady, this state is celebrated as kumbhaka. The wise declare this restraint to be the withdrawal of the senses, and the best among them call it true pratyāhāra. In such a state, concentration is achieved by binding the mind, holding it steady and unwavering. When the mind is not distracted by other thoughts or activities, this focused state is known by the sages as meditation. When one’s awareness is fixed solely upon the object of contemplation, this is recognized as the highest means of yoga. Meditation, when extended up to twelve cycles of breath, is called samādhi, the ultimate absorption. Of all the various practices, this is the supreme means to realization. To support this journey, the posture is important. Sitting firmly, the lotus posture is declared to be the highest seat for the self. The half-seated posture, too, is praised as the supreme means for yoga practice. Likewise, sitting steadily in the svastika posture is commended as the best. The place of practice also matters. Whether by a sacred fire, in water, or upon a heap of dry leaves, one must choose wisely. Noisy places, places where fear arises, or where there are heaps of shrines or anthills are to be avoided. One should not practice when afflicted by bodily discomfort, distress, or similar disturbances. Instead, the yogi should seek out serene places: on the bank of a river, in a sacred region, or within a temple of the gods. There, the yogi, devoted to the Divine, should always unite himself in yoga. With a mind well-concentrated, he should unite himself with the guru and with the Lord. He should sit with gaze fixed at the tip of his nose, the eyes slightly opened, and contemplate the supreme Lord established within his own self. He should visualize the radiant stalk of knowledge arising from the root of dharma, and contemplate the supreme golden core at the lotus’s center. He should meditate upon the unmanifest, signified by Om, filled with a network of rays. Into that divine light, he should merge his own self, realizing their non-difference. Having thus become all-pervading, he should let go of all other thoughts. Next, having contemplated the supreme lotus in the heart as previously described, he should focus on its center, envisioning the twenty-fifth puruṣa—shaped like a flame—residing there. He should meditate upon the eternal, auspicious, imperishable principle revealed by Om. Within that, he should recognize the supreme principle, the pure foundation of the self. Having purified all the principles—whether through Om or other means—he should flood his own body with that very water of knowledge. He must contemplate the Lord within himself, the supreme light in its true form. This, indeed, is the very essence of all Vedānta, transcending all the stages and duties of life. The scripture declares it is taught for the twice-born, for those who are devoted students of sacred knowledge. And know this: contentment, truthfulness, and faith are especially the limbs of all vows. Thus is revealed the sacred path, step by step, for the devoted seeker.