Source](https://vk.com/@ivandubovik-tantricheskaya-tradiciya-kashmirskogo-shivaizma)
5 main nooses:
1) Self-pity and pity for others (gṛhṇā). Self-pity is unacceptable for a yogin, for it inevitably stems from inflated self-importance, a sense of the significance of one’s own person, and false identification with the transient instead of the eternal. Pity for one’s neighbor, on the other hand, cannot help, but only worsens his pitiable state. Pity should not be confused with compassion (co-suffering, co-labor). Pity is incapable of showing a way out of a grievous situation.
2) Longing, despondency (śoka). The great saint of the Russian land, Seraphim of Sarov, said: “There is no worse sin, and nothing is more terrible and destructive than the spirit of despondency.” Why? Because, just like pity, despondency is evidence of a dead-end sense of self-importance.
3) Fear (bhaya‘m). Perhaps the strongest of all emotions that suffocate a person throughout their entire life. Fear takes root in us almost from the first moment we become aware of our mortality. The fear of the complete disappearance of what we are accustomed to perceiving as our precious “self” plunges us into despair and depression. It is this fundamental terror before the relentless abyss of death that gives rise to all other kinds of fears and anxieties, compelling a person to seek external, temporary, material consolations.
4) Shyness (lajjā). Deliberate self-diminishment, disbelief in oneself, and, consequently, denial of one’s divine essence, can in no way be a virtue from the standpoint of the liberating teaching of the āgamas. At the same time, the absence of lajjā does not at all imply coarse, unrestrained behavior, but rather a serene yogic dignity.
5) Disgust (jugupsā). Again, being free of disgust does not mean one must eat slops or neglect to tidy one’s dwelling. What matters is not to shudder inwardly, not to be caught by this noose.
Note that all the aforementioned pāśas (also known as emotions) make us shrink, wither. They destroy us—both externally and internally—while love, joy, acceptance are always expansion, always complete openness. All of them are nourished by disbelief in one’s own innate divine nature, in its immutable beauty, power, and radiance. Instead of the omnipotence of Śiva, the jīva feels itself small, helpless, dependent, and, in essence, godless. The power of the nooses over us is godlessness. As a result, the jīva feels its separateness from everything and everyone, its limited microscopic individuality, which stiffens in a strong chainmail woven from name, profession, status, career, origin, family, achievements. Thus the greatest substitution is constructed: we begin to take temporary, perishable, short-lived things as the foundation, and grieve when they suddenly begin to melt before our eyes. We devote our entire lives to nurturing and tending what, in the end, like smoke in the wind, leaves us, completely unaware that the imperishable constantly lives within, as our true, inalienable essence. Entirely absorbed in the roar and flicker of external impressions, we do not hear the gentle beating of the essence. This is how the nooses work.
True ahiṃsā is not external, but that which constantly occurs within our being. It consists in non-injury to one’s original divine nature, in the discovery and awareness of Śiva as the substance permeating all aspects of existence without exception. Such ahiṃsā implies complete liberation from the harmful nooses. Only such inner ahiṃsā will spontaneously bring about the outer one as well. For the unchanging divinity of the world will be revealed and shine forth in all its manifold splendor. And all its parts—from minerals to stars, from the snail to man—will appear as one universal soul. Having harmed a part in thought, word, or deed, one has harmed the whole. Without this holistic awareness, all external manifestations of so-called mercy, compassion, and philanthropy, which the notorious political correctness so loves to wield for its far from humane purposes, will remain but fragments of that same pāśa of pity.