This śloka begins a new subsection in Chapter 6. Until now, the teaching focused mainly on general preparations for meditation: karma-yoga, saṅkalpa-sannyāsa, detachment, self-effort, self-mastery, and samabuddhi. These are disciplines to be lived throughout daily life. Now Bhagavān turns to specific preparations for actual meditation — the conditions to be arranged when one is ready to sit for dhyānam.

The word yogī here means the meditator, the seeker who is ready to practice meditation. Yuñjīta means “may he engage,” “may he practice,” or “may he apply the mind.” What is to be engaged? Ātmānam here means the mind. The seeker must engage the mind in meditation. Meditation is not the absence of all mental activity. It is the deliberate direction of the mind toward the chosen spiritual subject.

Satatam means regularly or constantly. It does not mean one sits in meditation twenty-four hours a day and neglects all duties. It means the practice should be steady and consistent. Meditation should not be an occasional emotional activity done only when one feels inspired. Like eating, study, prayer, or exercise, it needs regularity. A mind trained by regular practice becomes available; a mind trained only by occasional enthusiasm remains irregular.

Then Bhagavān gives the first condition: rahasi sthitaḥ — staying in a secluded place. Rahasi means a quiet place, not easily accessible to disturbance. This does not necessarily mean a distant forest or Himalayan cave. The essential point is freedom from unnecessary disturbance. A corner of the home can become rahasi if it is protected, quiet, clean, and associated with prayer and study. The place should help the mind turn inward.

The next word is ekākī — alone. Meditation is ultimately an inward discipline. Even if many people gather for chanting, class, or group prayer, actual meditation requires inward aloneness. Another person may distract through movement, sound, emotional presence, or subtle comparison. Therefore, when one sits for meditation, it is better to be alone, without the need to interact, impress, respond, or manage another person.

Yatacittātmā means one whose mind and body are disciplined. Here citta means mind and ātma means the physical body. The body must be sufficiently disciplined to sit steadily. If the body is restless, uncomfortable, unhealthy, or untrained, it will constantly demand attention. The mind also must be restrained; otherwise, it will run outward through memory, planning, anxiety, fantasy, and distraction. The body is made fit through posture, moderation, and healthy living. The mind is made fit through karma-yoga, value-based life, prayer, and self-mastery.

Then comes nirāśīḥ — free from binding desires. This does not mean a person should have no legitimate wishes at all. A parent may wish for the well-being of children. A student may wish to study well. A seeker may wish for clarity. These are natural and legitimate. The problem is not desire as such; the problem is binding desire — desire that creates anxiety, agitation, fear, and dependence. When a desire says, “Only if this happens can I be peaceful,” it becomes poisonous.

At least during meditation, all desires must be placed at the feet of Bhagavān. “I will do what I should and what I can. The final result is not fully under my control.” This surrender is not irresponsibility. It is mental freedom after responsibility. Without this, meditation time becomes worry time.

Finally, Bhagavān says aparigrahaḥ — free from possessiveness. Parigraha means possession, accumulation, and the sense of ownership. Aparigraha means simple living and freedom from the burden of ownership. Possessions are not merely physical objects. They occupy the mind. Whatever I own, I must acquire, protect, maintain, repair, insure, display, compare, and worry about. More possessions often mean more mental accounts open.

Simple living supports high thinking. The point is not poverty for its own sake. The point is reducing the mental load created by acquisition and maintenance. Even the possessions that remain should be held with a trustee attitude: “These are given by Bhagavān for temporary use. I will use them responsibly, but they do not define me and they do not ultimately belong to me.”

This applies even to relationships. Children, spouse, family, students, friends, and community members are not possessions. They are beings connected to us through Bhagavān’s order. We are given opportunities to love, serve, guide, learn, and grow. But when relationship becomes ownership, meditation becomes impossible because the mind is always calculating, fearing, controlling, and clinging.

Thus 6.10 gives a practical meditation environment: regular practice, quiet place, aloneness, disciplined body and mind, non-binding desire, and simple living with non-ownership. These are not meditation itself; they are the conditions that make meditation possible.