Yoga (n.) withdraws the relations to the object into the unconscious, where they re-form, so that after the exercise the object wears a new face, as though newly created — hence the cosmogonic myth.
Yoga (n.) has the yogin exchange his ego for Shiva or the Buddha, shifting the centre of personality from the personal ego to the impersonal non-ego as its real Ground.
A Yoga (n.) is said to move mountains; the European can blow them up.
Yoga (n.) is best honoured by a European in the breach: Jung owed his best insights to always doing just the opposite of what its rules prescribe.
Yoga (n.) will teach you an infinite amount if you study it — but do not try to apply it, for do you know who is applying the yoga?
Yoga (n.) is immersion in what we would call an unconscious state, but which the Indian praises as the highest consciousness.
A Yoga (n.) must give up Europe entirely and evaporate on a gazelle-skin under a dusty banyan tree; whoever cannot should not behave as if he did.
Yoga (n.) appropriated uncritically by Europeans serves their hope of avoiding their own dark corners — a beginning entirely meaningless and worthless.
Yoga (n.) practised in Mayfair or on Fifth Avenue, or anywhere on the telephone, is a spiritual fake; what use is it if your dark side stays a good medieval Christian?
Yoga (n.) would only delude Europeans about their own reality; the way begins with a few European truths about ourselves.