Within the sacred teachings, the practice of breath—arising from within one’s own body—is described as restraint, or prāṇāyāma, and it is said to have three forms: shining (rocaka), filling (pūraka), and retention (kumbhaka). To begin, one presses a nostril gently with a finger and exhales the breath from the belly through the other nostril; this is known as recaka, the out-breath. Then, drawing in the external air through the open nostril, the body is firmly filled; this act is called pūraka, the in-breath. After inhalation, when the air is neither drawn in nor released, but remains motionless inside and outside, full like a pot, this is kumbhaka, the retention of breath. This triad—recaka, pūraka, and kumbhaka—should be practiced neither too quickly nor too slowly. The yogin, through gradual and patient effort, learns to regulate them. Before undertaking these practices, one must purify the subtle channels (nāḍīs) through which the breath flows, for only then can the yogin proceed, continuing up to the limit of his own will, as prescribed in the discipline of yoga. The scriptures further teach that restraint of breath is explained in four ways, each distinguished by its measure and quality, beginning with the practice called kanyaka. Kanyaka itself is fourfold and consists of twelve measures; madhyama, the intermediate practice, is restrained twice and consists of twenty-four measures. Uttama, the superior practice, is restrained three times and consists of twenty-six measures. Beyond these is the highest prāṇāyāma, which brings about profound effects such as sweating, trembling, and more. As the supreme yogin advances, he may experience joy, hair standing on end, tears streaming from the eyes, incoherent speech, dizziness, fainting, and similar states. To measure the breath, one circles the knee and snaps the fingers, neither too quickly nor too slowly; this is known as the measure. These measures should be understood in proper sequence and by the method of upward movement. After the channels are purified, prāṇāyāma should be practiced in the proper way. Prāṇāyāma is remembered as twofold: with seed and without seed. The practice without seed involves neither recitation nor meditation, while with seed, it is accompanied by these sacred acts. Of the two, prāṇāyāma with seed is said to be more than a hundred times greater in effect; thus, yogins favor this form of breath control. Within the body reside five vital airs: prāṇa, apāna, samāna, udāna, and vyāna. There are also five subsidiary winds: nāga, kūrma, kṛkala, devadatta, and dhanaṃjaya—so named because they cause various movements within. When food and other substances are consumed, apāna moves downward and is so called; vyāna spreads throughout all the limbs, increasing them. Udāna is the wind that agitates the vital points, while samāna brings balance to the entire body. The subsidiary winds manifest in daily life: nāga is present in belching, kūrma in the opening of the eyes, kṛkala in sneezing, and devadatta in yawning. Dhanaṃjaya pervades the body and does not depart even after death. When practiced in proper sequence, prāṇāyāma becomes immeasurable in its benefit. Through such practice, all faults are burned away, and the practitioner’s body is protected. When mastery over the breath is achieved, certain signs become evident: a reduction in feces, urine, and phlegm; the capacity to eat more; and the ability to exhale for a longer time. Lightness, swiftness, enthusiasm, excellence of voice, the destruction of all diseases, strength, brilliance, and beauty arise. Steadfastness, intelligence, youthfulness, stability, clarity, the destruction of sins through austerities, and the ability to perform sacrifices, give gifts, and undertake vows—all these are gained. Yet, even all these benefits do not equal a sixteenth part of the true value of prāṇāyāma, just as the senses, absorbed in their objects, fall short of their true potential. When one restrains all the senses from their respective objects, it is called pratyāhāra. The senses, by their previous actions, lead to either heaven or hell. Whether restrained or released, they have this power; therefore, the wise, seeking happiness and endowed with wisdom and detachment, should strive to control them. Just as a charioteer quickly restrains his horses, so should one draw in the senses and uplift oneself. In brief, dhāraṇā is the fixing of the mind on a particular place. And that place is none other than Śiva, for all faults arise from elsewhere. One should hold the mind steady in that sacred place for a certain time. If the mind does not waver from the chosen object, that is true dhāraṇā; from this, the mind first attains stability. Therefore, through the practice of dhāraṇā, the mind should be made steady. In meditation (dhyāna), the support is the constant remembrance of Śiva. When the mind is undistracted and the cognition matches the state of the object of meditation, this is called true meditation. When the flow of thought is uninterrupted and free from other cognitions, this is meditation in its purest form. Abandoning all else, one should meditate on Śiva alone, the bestower of all auspiciousness. The supreme object of meditation is the Lord above the gods, as declared in the Atharvaṇa revelation. Likewise, the supreme Śivā is to be meditated upon—both Śiva and Śivā, who pervade all beings. These two, as taught in the revealed and remembered scriptures, are all-pervading, always proclaimed, omniscient, and always to be meditated upon, though manifesting in various forms. From this meditation arise two results: liberation, and the attainment of powers such as aṇimā (the ability to become minute). Knowing these four—the meditator, the meditation, the object of meditation, and the purpose of meditation—the knower of yoga should diligently practice. The true meditator is one endowed with knowledge and detachment, who is faithful, patient, free from possessiveness, and always enthusiastic. When exhausted from recitation, one should turn to meditation; when fatigued from meditation, one should return to recitation. For one who is engaged in both, yoga is quickly accomplished. Concentration (dhāraṇā) lasts for twelve breaths; meditation (dhyāna) is twelve times the duration of concentration. When meditation reaches twelvefold, it is called samādhi—the state of perfect absorption.