Reflections of the mind: “the moon, the stars and the light within”
Patanjali Yoga Sutra 3.28
चन्द्रे ताराव्यूहज्ञानम् || ३.२८ ||
Candre tārā-vyūha-jñānam
By performing samyama on the moon, knowledge concerning the arrangements of the stars in gained.
—translation by Shri Bhranamanda Sarasvati (RamamurtiS. Mishra M.D.)
This sutra invites us to deepen our relationship with the mind by likening it to the reflective quality of the moon. In yogic philosophy, the moon symbolizes the mind—passive and reflective, not generating its own light but simply reflecting light that illuminates it. Similarly, our mind reflects the impressions of our experiences, relationships, and environments, casting light on what occupies our consciousness.
The phases of the moon offer a profound lesson about the fluctuating nature of the mind. Just as the moon waxes and wanes, so too does our consciousness shift and change. The stars in the night sky add another layer to this metaphor, representing the endless stream of thoughts and impressions that move through the mind. Just as stars appear to shift and rearrange themselves across the heavens, so too do our citta vrittis—the fluctuations of the mind. Each experience, person, or place we encounter leaves an impression, a samskara, shaping the movement of our thoughts and creating patterns within our consciousness. These patterns are not random; they are like constellations, forming a unique map of our existence, revealing how our external and internal worlds are interconnected.
Yet, the deeper teaching of this sutra lies in recognizing that the true light—the Sun—is always present. The stars, though they appear to shine brightly, do not illuminate the earth or the moon; they are distant reflections. Similarly, the external things that occupy our minds—possessions, relationships, and environments—move and change, however strong they feel are really only transient impressions. Only the sun can truly illuminate the moon, just as only the spirit can truly illuminate the mind. This sun, the eternal presence within us, is not external but the ever-present light of our spirit. When we allow ourselves to be guided by external influences we obscure this inner light and lose sight of our true nature.
This sutra teaches us that by observing the ever-changing movement of the stars—our thoughts and impressions—we can develop discernment. We begin to recognize which patterns uplift us and which weigh us down, allowing us to transcend the habitual pull of samskaras. Through the practice of samyama on the moon, we steady the mind’s reflective quality, enabling us to see beyond the movement of the stars to the light of the sun within.
Ultimately, this sutra encourages us to shift our perspective, urging us to look beyond the surface level of things and recognize the underlying unity and beauty that is always present. Through deep meditation, we can fully know ourselves, perceive the luminous spirit within, and awaken to the extraordinary reality of who we truly are.
The philosophical depth of this sutra points us toward a mystical truth: the mind, when aligned with the spirit, has the capacity to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. By practicing samyama on the moon, we realize that our reflective mind, when focused with clarity and intention, can reveal the subtle, cosmic patterns of our life. We begin to understand that our experiences, no matter how mundane they may seem, are part of a larger, more profound movement. They are not random but are like stars in the sky, forming the constellation of our existence.