Gather the mind on one ground, and let solitude be the room that steadiness needs.
The picture is a hermit alone in a quiet place, but the real instruction is inward: hold the restless mind constantly on a single point, and treat solitude, restraint, and empty hands as the conditions that stillness requires, not as ends worth chasing for their own sake.
Let the yogi constantly steady the mind: staying alone in a solitary place, mind and body held in check, free of longing and free of the urge to possess anything.
The reading read whole, as one unhurried piece
Where it stands
You have just heard what the one who has already climbed to yoga looks like. Now Krishna turns to how you begin the climb yourself: where to sit, how to hold the mind, what to set down. This verse opens a long, unbroken stretch of practical instruction that will run for many verses ahead, laying out the practice, its supports, and its fruit. Hear it not as one isolated rule but as the entrance to the whole curriculum the verses ahead will fill in.
The teaching
Yoke the self, and do it constantly, without stopping. The self to be gathered here is your mind, the restless inner instrument, and not the deepest Self; the work is to take that scattered, wandering mind and make it collected, one-pointed, held on a single ground, dropping its dull and distracted states. This is not a thing done once. It is sustained, without a break, until it holds on its own. Around this inward work, the verse arranges outer conditions, and these are read, across the sources, as support rather than hardship for its own sake. Sit apart, in a quiet place, and sit alone, without even one companion, since the work to be done is entirely inward and company draws the senses back out toward the world. Hold mind and body in check together. Be free of expectation, wanting nothing beyond the practice itself, and hold no possessions, free of the sense of mine toward anything at all, since even a small remaining belonging still occupies the mind that is trying to gather. None of this is offered as virtue for its own sake. It is offered as exactly what a mind actually needs in order to stop scattering.
The doubt that rises
Does this really mean withdrawing to a cave, alone, with nothing, or is the solitude and possessionlessness named here something that can be practiced, in smaller measure, inside an ordinary life?
Where the paths divide
Read as the formal start of a renunciate's discipline.
Take this as opening a discipline that already presupposes renunciation. The words dwelling in solitude and alone themselves tell you the practitioner has given up companions and possessions, so the further word possessionless is not repetition but a pointed, further emptying, reaching even to the small things a renouncer might otherwise still hold. The self here is carefully kept apart from the deepest Self: it means the mind, the inner instrument, to be gathered by restraining its own movements. What follows in the next verses will supply the rule of seat, food, and conduct this discipline needs.
Read as the self settled into direct sight of its own nature.
Place this inside the discipline of action already taught. Yoking the self means making the self settled in the direct beholding of its own nature, aiming the whole practice at a clear inward vision rather than mere mental quiet. Freedom from expectation means having no claim on anything at all other than the Self, and freedom from possession means holding nothing as mine apart from that. The outer conditions frame the inward beholding you carry on, day after day, at the time set aside for it.
Read as a technical instruction in a named practice.
Read this as narrowing the general instruction to engage or join, already given earlier in the chapter, to one exact practice: the yoga of samadhi, deep absorptive concentration. The self to be joined is, as elsewhere, the mind, made joined specifically to samadhi. This is not the deepest Self being trained; that Self stands eternally distinct, and it is the mind alone that this verse asks you to gather and still.
Read as steady posture building, step by step, to a steady mind aimed at the Lord.
This verse answers a direct question: how is the conquest of the self, named just before, actually won? The surviving comment builds a chain: steady posture yields steady time, and steady time yields a steady mind, so the outer conditions of solitude and restraint are the mechanism, not decoration, by which one-pointedness is reached. The practice is given an explicit aim, sitting joined and holding the Lord as highest; peace comes to the one who gathers this way, and at its farthest reach, the attaining of the Lord himself. A fuller non-dual extension into universal awareness would go beyond what this fragment states, and is offered here, if at all, only as a clearly flagged inference.
Read as a practical map of what stillness actually needs.
Read the whole list of conditions as a careful, practical map rather than hardship prized for its own sake. Solitude, a light hand, and the wanting of nothing are exactly what the room of meditation needs, no more and no less. Even the closing terms are read plainly, with room left for more than one sense where the source itself allows it, so that the emphasis stays on what actually helps the mind settle rather than on any single rigid formula.
Read as the deliberate opening of a full curriculum, proportionate to its aim.
This verse opens a long, deliberate sequence of twenty-three verses laying out yoga and its limbs, and its closing terms are read with real technical precision: possessionlessness reaches beyond ordinary renunciation, removing even what scripture itself would permit a renouncer to keep, since even that much still blocks one-pointed work. The severity asked for is proportionate to what the work requires, not valued as austerity in its own right.
All six readings agree that what is yoked here is the mind, and that the outer conditions serve that single inward work rather than standing as separate virtues. They part on how far the conditions must be taken literally, and toward what the gathered mind is finally aimed: a renunciate's full discipline, the self's own direct vision of itself, a specific named practice of absorption, a steady chain ending in the Lord, a practical map for any sincere effort, or a graded curriculum proportionate to its own aim. This page does not settle which reading you must adopt.
A question to carry
Where in your own life could you actually go quiet, even briefly, and what would you have to stop wanting or holding in order to let your mind settle there?
Where this teaching travels
Verses that sit near this one, each going its own way; follow whichever calls you.
So find the quiet you can actually reach, sit there with your whole attention, and let go, a little at a time, of what your mind does not need to carry.
Each school is voiced from the commentators named above. Their full words, every translation, and where the schools agree and differ wait in the reading desk just below. Open the commentary desk.
Krishna has just described the one who has already climbed to yoga; here he turns to method, opening a long stretch of instruction on how the seeker still climbing should sit, hold the mind, and let go.
Where they agreethe convergence
Across schools and centuries the commentators come to the same ground. These are the points they share, and the voices that hold each one.
This verse opens a long, continuous curriculum on yoga's practice and its limbs, not an isolated or stray instruction.
Across Advaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Madhusūdana · ŚrīdharaIn Śaṅkara, Madhusūdana, and 1 others’ words
Every commentator reads this verse as the doorway into a long, continuous stretch of practical instruction, opening a curriculum of roughly twenty-three verses that will lay out yoga together with its supporting conditions and its final fruit. Having just described the one who has already climbed to yoga, Krishna turns here to method: how the seeker still climbing should sit and work, verse by verse, from this point on.
The self to be yoked is the mind, the restless inner instrument, gathered constantly and without a break onto a single point.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, Dvaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Madhva · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 3 others’ words
The single instruction at the heart of the verse is to yoke the self, and to do so constantly, without a break. Nearly every commentator reads self here as the mind, the restless inner instrument, not the deepest Self; the work named is to take a scattered, wandering mind and make it collected, one-pointed, and absorbed, dropping its dull, distracted, and unsettled states.
Solitude and aloneness protect an entirely inward work, since company and surroundings otherwise call the mind back out toward objects.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, Kashmir Śaiva, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Abhinavagupta · ŚrīdharaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 2 others’ words
The outer conditions named next, solitude and aloneness above all, are read across the schools as neither incidental scenery nor austerity valued for its own sake, but as a deliberate map of what the mind actually requires to stop scattering. Because the work to be done is entirely inward, company and surroundings that call the senses back out toward objects are removed on purpose, not out of contempt for the world.
Freedom from expectation and from possession strip away even the smallest remaining claims, since any leftover belonging still occupies the mind.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Madhusūdana · ŚrīdharaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 2 others’ words
The verse closes with a further restraint of mind and body together and two more qualifications, freedom from expectation and freedom from possession, and the commentators agree these are not redundant with solitude and aloneness. They strip away even the last, smallest things a renouncer might still hold, since any remaining belonging still invites the mind's concern and so still obstructs the single-pointed work being asked for.
Every outer condition named here serves one single inward purpose: a mind gathered and held steady, not four separate virtues to be pursued.
Across Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, BhaktiŚaṅkara · Rāmānuja · Śrīdhara · MadhusūdanaIn Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, and 2 others’ words
Underneath the list of conditions lies one shared logic: outward arrangement serves an inward end. Solitude, aloneness, restraint, and possessionlessness are not four separate virtues to be achieved for their own sake but four supports for a single achievement, a mind gathered and held on one ground, and the commentators consistently read each term back to that single purpose.
This is the shared ground; it can be carried as it is. Below is where they differ.
Where they differthe divergence
Viśiṣṭādvaita, in their fuller words
Ramanuja places the verse inside the discipline of action already taught, and reads yoking the self as making the self settled in the direct beholding of its own nature, aiming the practice at a clear inward vision rather than mere mental quiet. Freedom from expectation and from possession are read broadly, as having no claim on anything at all other than the Self itself.
Dvaita, in their fuller words
Madhva reads the verse narrowly and technically, as teaching the specific manner of the yoga of samadhi, deep absorptive concentration, narrowing the general instruction to engage or join, already given earlier in the chapter, to this one exact practice. As elsewhere, self here means the mind, which is to be made joined to samadhi, not the deepest Self, which is never itself the object being trained.
Shaiva, in their fuller words
Abhinavagupta reads the verse as answering a direct question, how is the conquest of the self actually won, and builds a chain of dependence distinctly his own: steady posture yields steady time, and steady time yields a steady mind. He gives the practice an explicitly theistic aim, holding Krishna as the highest, with peace and, at its furthest reach, attainment of Krishna as the fruit; a fuller non-dual extension into universal I-consciousness would go beyond what this fragment states and is flagged here as inference, not his stated words.
Bhakti, in their fuller words
Sridhara reads the verse as a careful, practical map rather than a call to hardship for its own sake: solitude, a light hand, and the wanting of nothing are, in his own phrase, what the room of meditation needs. He glosses each closing term plainly, noting even an alternate reading of niraharah as taking no food, without forcing a single resolution where the source itself allows more than one.
A modern reading, in their fuller words
Madhusudana frames the verse as opening a long, deliberate curriculum of twenty-three verses on yoga and its limbs, and reads its closing terms with technical precision: possessionlessness here removes even what scripture itself would permit a renouncer to keep, since even a small belonging still blocks the one-pointed work. The severity is read as proportionate to the aim, not as austerity valued independently of it.
A few questions to carry
These ask for understanding, not recall; each answer is settled by the commentary itself.
For a second sitting
Carry this with youwhat stays
You do not need a mountain cave to test this verse. Notice, for a few minutes, where your mind keeps reaching, toward a plan, a worry, a thing to check or hold onto, and each time, gently bring it back to the one point in front of you. The solitude this verse asks for begins exactly there, in the small, repeatable act of letting the reaching fall away rather than in any particular address.
So find whatever quiet corner your life allows, hold your mind there gently and constantly, and let go, a little at a time, of what you do not need to carry.
Read deeper
Everything a full study holds, folded below.
Word by word
All the commentary, woven together
The commentary, woven together
machine-assisted draft, pending review
Convergence
very commentator reads this verse as the doorway into a long, continuous stretch of practical instruction, opening a curriculum of roughly twenty-three verses that will lay out yoga together with its supporting conditions and its final fruit. Having just described the one who has already climbed to yoga, Krishna turns here to method: how the seeker still climbing should sit and work, verse by verse, from this point on.
Śaṅkarācārya · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī · Śrīdhara Svāmī
The single instruction at the heart of the verse is to yoke the self, and to do so constantly, without a break. Nearly every commentator reads self here as the mind, the restless inner instrument, not the deepest Self; the work named is to take a scattered, wandering mind and make it collected, one-pointed, and absorbed, dropping its dull, distracted, and unsettled states.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Madhvācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
The outer conditions named next, solitude and aloneness above all, are read across the schools as neither incidental scenery nor austerity valued for its own sake, but as a deliberate map of what the mind actually requires to stop scattering. Because the work to be done is entirely inward, company and surroundings that call the senses back out toward objects are removed on purpose, not out of contempt for the world.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Ācārya Abhinavagupta · Śrīdhara Svāmī
The verse closes with a further restraint of mind and body together and two more qualifications, freedom from expectation and freedom from possession, and the commentators agree these are not redundant with solitude and aloneness. They strip away even the last, smallest things a renouncer might still hold, since any remaining belonging still invites the mind's concern and so still obstructs the single-pointed work being asked for.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī · Śrīdhara Svāmī
Underneath the list of conditions lies one shared logic: outward arrangement serves an inward end. Solitude, aloneness, restraint, and possessionlessness are not four separate virtues to be achieved for their own sake but four supports for a single achievement, a mind gathered and held on one ground, and the commentators consistently read each term back to that single purpose.
Śaṅkarācārya · Rāmānujācārya · Śrīdhara Svāmī · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
Divergence
Advaita Vedānta
Shankara reads the verse as the formal beginning of a discipline already presupposing renunciation: the words dwelling in solitude and alone themselves establish that the practitioner has given up companions and possessions. Possessionlessness is therefore not a repetition but a further, pointed emptying, and the whole verse sets the stage for the rules of seat, food, and conduct that the following verses will supply.
Śaṅkarācārya
Viśiṣṭādvaita
Ramanuja places the verse inside the discipline of action already taught, and reads yoking the self as making the self settled in the direct beholding of its own nature, aiming the practice at a clear inward vision rather than mere mental quiet. Freedom from expectation and from possession are read broadly, as having no claim on anything at all other than the Self itself.
Rāmānujācārya
Dvaita
Madhva reads the verse narrowly and technically, as teaching the specific manner of the yoga of samadhi, deep absorptive concentration, narrowing the general instruction to engage or join, already given earlier in the chapter, to this one exact practice. As elsewhere, self here means the mind, which is to be made joined to samadhi, not the deepest Self, which is never itself the object being trained.
Madhvācārya
Kashmir Śaiva
Abhinavagupta reads the verse as answering a direct question, how is the conquest of the self actually won, and builds a chain of dependence distinctly his own: steady posture yields steady time, and steady time yields a steady mind. He gives the practice an explicitly theistic aim, holding Krishna as the highest, with peace and, at its furthest reach, attainment of Krishna as the fruit; a fuller non-dual extension into universal I-consciousness would go beyond what this fragment states and is flagged here as inference, not his stated words.
Ācārya Abhinavagupta
Bhakti
Sridhara reads the verse as a careful, practical map rather than a call to hardship for its own sake: solitude, a light hand, and the wanting of nothing are, in his own phrase, what the room of meditation needs. He glosses each closing term plainly, noting even an alternate reading of niraharah as taking no food, without forcing a single resolution where the source itself allows more than one.
Śrīdhara Svāmī
Modern
Madhusudana frames the verse as opening a long, deliberate curriculum of twenty-three verses on yoga and its limbs, and reads its closing terms with technical precision: possessionlessness here removes even what scripture itself would permit a renouncer to keep, since even a small belonging still blocks the one-pointed work. The severity is read as proportionate to the aim, not as austerity valued independently of it.
Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
A Seeker Asks
Does this verse really mean I have to abandon my life, my people, and my possessions to practice yoga seriously?
Shankara and Madhusudana both read the solitude and possessionlessness here as belonging to a particular stage of practice, one presupposing renunciation already made; that is a real and specific calling, not a blanket demand placed on every reader of the verse.
Śaṅkarācārya · Madhusūdana Sarasvatī
Sridhara reads the same conditions as a map of what the mind needs, not a virtue to chase for its own sake: the point is a mind no longer scattered into company and acquisition, and the outer arrangement is only ever in service of that single inward aim.
Śrīdhara Svāmī
Ramanuja and Abhinavagupta both locate the real work inward, in the self's own beholding of itself or in the steadying chain from posture to mind; the outer conditions support that work rather than replacing it, so the question worth asking is what, in your own circumstances, would let your mind actually gather.
Rāmānujācārya · Ācārya Abhinavagupta
Contemplation
You do not need a mountain cave to test this verse. Notice, for a few minutes, where your mind keeps reaching, toward a plan, a worry, a thing to check or hold onto, and each time, gently bring it back to the one point in front of you. The solitude this verse asks for begins exactly there, in the small, repeatable act of letting the reaching fall away rather than in any particular address.
Sit with this · sonnet-5-authored
All the translations and commentary
Pull up a chair.
You have come to sit with this verse. When you are ready to hear the translators and the commentators in full, open a tradition in the doorways below, or add a voice by name above.
Also hear this verse, tradition by tradition.