The ancient yoga system is made up of 8 limbs: yama (abstinence), niyama (observance), asana (posture), pranayama (breath control), pratyahara (sense withdrawal), dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation), and Samadhi (contemplation, absorption or super-conscious state)[1]. No one limb should take precedence over another in the practice of yoga for those who attempt to live yoga. However, what many think of when they think “yoga” is not this complex approach to achieving inner peace.
I recently began assist teaching yoga to New York City public school children. On the first day of class, the lead teacher asked the first group of 1st graders what they thought yoga was. The responses varied from energetic little bodies performing certain asana with names like “turtle” and “rocking horse” to assertions that yoga was stretching. Some of these hyper-mobile youth also answered that yoga was about relaxing. The second group of students was slightly older: 2nd and 3rd graders. While certain of them still resorted to demonstrating the poses they had previously been taught, “saddle” being a favorite, more in the group responded with answers such as “begin calm,” “meditation,” and “relaxation.” The lead teacher then went on to instruct that yoga was a mixture of most of their answers and was about connecting the body and mind through breath control. I bring up this experience because it is indicative of the constant question I am asked when I say that I teach yoga: “why yoga?”
Ultimately, I like to think that people ask this question to learn more about what yoga means to me and why I choose now to dedicate my days to teaching yoga to others, practicing yoga for myself and finding new opportunities to share yoga with my community. Still, I know behind each of these questions lies a more cynical mind that wants to analyze what type of “yoga” you teach: “Do you use incense?” “Do you chant?” “Are you a vegetarian?” While none of these questions bothers me, there is that constant sense behind each inquiry as to why one would choose the path of yoga. Thus, each inquiry makes me reflect on my own choice.
Quite simply, yoga brings a sense of purpose and happiness to my life that I have not experienced without the constant practice of asana, the attention to my breath and the inspirational words of many great teachers that I attempt to take class from daily. While I am honest enough to admit that I have not perfected any of the limbs nor do I live each of them with equal attentiveness and practice, I am trying to live yoga as I am able. This question of “why yoga?” also ventures as to what type of teacher of yoga I am and will be. We teach what we know and we teach what we practice. So, I am able to measure where I am in my own living of yoga by what I am comfortable sharing with others now.
So, why yoga and not stretching? Apart from the fact that the practice of yoga asana builds considerable strength and stamina, yoga provides a rubric upon which a practitioner can make changes to his or her every day living patterns. While I happily answer that “yes, I can teach 30 minutes of stretching” in interviews for yoga teaching jobs, I also will willingly bring in the wise words written by yogis past and present when teaching those who seek muscular flexibility and then chant “Om” when closing a class. Because, once we start opening up our body anew, our minds and spirits awaken to the possibilities of change.
Namaste.
[1] The translation for each limb was taken from Sri Swami Satchidananda’s translation of Sutra 2.29 (Patanjali. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Translation and Commentary by Sri Swami Satchidananda. Yogaville, Virginia: Integral Yoga Publications, 2008).
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