Upanishads · Jābāladarśana 3.3
॥
Devanāgarī
समग्रीवशिरःकायः स्वस्तिकं नित्यमभ्यसेत् । सव्ये दक्षिणगुल्फं तु पृष्ठपार्श्वे नियोजयेत्
Transliteration (IAST)
samagrīvaśiraḥkāyaḥ svastikaṃ nityamabhyaset | savye dakṣiṇagulphaṃ tu pṛṣṭhapārśve niyojayet
Word-by-word
SanskritIASTMeaning
सम-ग्रीव-शिरः-कायःsama-grīva-śiraḥ-kāyaḥwith neck, head, and body even
स्वस्तिकं नित्यम् अभ्यसेत्svastikaṃ nityam abhyasetlet him constantly practice the svastika
सव्ये दक्षिण-गुल्फं तुsavye dakṣiṇa-gulphaṃ tuthe right ankle, however, on the left
पृष्ठ-पार्श्वे नियोजयेत्pṛṣṭha-pārśve niyojayetat the back side, let him fix
Translation
"…with neck, head, and body even, let him constantly practice the svastika. The right ankle, however, let him fix on the left, at the back side…"
Version
936371e9c3e5 · published Aug 12, 2026, 5:00:00 AM UTC
Available inRUENPage between verses with
The first requirement, common to all the postures, is named: sama-griva-shirah-kayah, "even neck, head, and body." This requirement deserves note, because it is the only one repeated without exception in every book on yoga, and because it is the only one with an obvious explanation. A straight spine allows one to sit long without pain and to breathe freely. Everything else — the arrangement of ankles and palms — is a detail; a straight back is a condition.
The Gita says the same, in almost the same words: samam kaya-shiro-grivam dharayan achalam sthirah, "holding the body, head, and neck even and motionless, firm" (6.13). The correspondence here is word-for-word — sama, kaya, shiras, griva — and it shows that this description circulated as a ready-made formula and belongs to no single school. Worth examining too is the word abhyaset, "let him practice," from abhyasa, "practice, habituation."
This notion is one of the two chief ones in yoga: the Gita names abhyasa and vairagya, "practice and dispassion," as the two means of subduing the mind (6.35). And practice stands there first. The word abhyasa literally means "a throwing toward," that is, a repeated return. Built into it is the premise that the mind will wander off, and that it will have to be brought back — and that this is not a failure, but the very substance of the matter.
This understanding deserves holding on to, for it removes needless despondency. A beginner usually thinks that if the mind has wandered, the practice has failed; but by this reckoning the practice consists precisely in bringing it back.