Asana, the physical practice, is the most recognizable of the eight limbs of yoga. If you mention “yoga,” most people will automatically picture a person in some beautiful, bendy position. But, of course, yoga is much more than just asana. There are seven other limbs of yoga in the system of Ashtanga Yoga. (Here, Ashtanga Yoga refers to the traditional meaning of the eight-limbed path, rather than Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, the system developed by K. Patabhi Jois.) In addition, there are many other forms of yoga that do not include postures.

In the context of the eight limbs, asana comes third, after yama and niyama. The first two limbs provide a solid foundation for the rest of the practice. They instill healthy intentions so that our practice can bear wholesome fruit. In addition, they give us guidelines for living a graceful life.

Because asana is the most popular aspect of yoga, it is also the most misunderstood. Western practitioners, who grew up on rigorous exercise, often practice asana in the context of that familiar paradigm. When we think of exercise, we think of concepts like competition and personal bests. Consequently, we associate the ability to do acrobatic poses with being “advanced.” But according to the yoga sutras, mastery of asana is a completely different thing.

The Asana Tradition

The word “asana” means “seat.” It literally refers to the sitting posture. The original purpose of practicing yoga asana was to support the body for the rigors of sitting meditation. This includes not only the physical body, but the physiological systems as well. Especially important is the nervous system.

When I studied in India with B.K.S. Iyengar, one thing he said stuck in my mind and has helped guide my practice. He said that we practice asana to create a peaceful, calm environment for the mind. When the body is at ease, the mind can more easily be at ease.

Three of the 196 yoga sutras describe asana. All are in the second pada, or chapter. Here they are (from Alistair Shearer’s translation):

1. 2.46: The physical posture should be steady and comfortable.
2. 2.47: It is mastered when all effort is relaxed and the mind is absorbed in the Infinite.
3. 2.48: Then you are no longer upset by the play of opposites.

So let’s break this down. As with other posts in this Yoga 101 series, my descriptions here will be short and sweet. If you want to delve deeper, pick up my book, Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life.

Sutra 2.46: Alistair Shearer’s translation uses the description “steady and comfortable.” Other translations of this sutra describe asana as “firm and soft,” “steady and easy,” and other such opposite qualities. For me, this says that balancing effort is the key. Steadiness implies a strength, stability and commitment. Comfort implies ease and calm. Steadiness without comfort can create tension and tightness. Comfort without steadiness can bring about sloth and heaviness. So we balance the two in every pose.

Sutra 2.47: This sutra is crucial for understanding the intention—and the power—of asana practice. Notice that it doesn’t define mastery in terms of what our bodies can or can’t do. There’s nothing about pushing further or mastering fancy poses. In fact, it implies the opposite. Unlike competitive sports, where we constantly push our edge, asana asks us to relax our effort. When we can relax effort in our poses, instead of “doing” the pose, we start to “be” the pose. In that present-moment experience of the internal process, our minds are absorbed in the Infinite. Anyone, with any body type or physical ability, can achieve mastery in asana.

Sutra 2.48: Flexibility, strength, tone, stress relief—these are the qualities most often listed as the benefits of asana practice. And it’s true; regular practitioners often report these benefits. But these are simply side benefits to the real purpose of practice: to be able to meet the ebb and flow of our lives with equanimity. When we practice with steadiness and comfort in mind, we balance our nervous system and cultivate mind-body calm. When we relax effort and let go into the moment-by-moment experience of asana, our minds become spacious and clear. By developing this state, we are able to approach our lives’ ups and downs with more grace. I don’t know about you, but I think this is an extraordinary claim for a physical practice.

So through the instrument of our own physical bodies, we can touch into spacious equanimity that expands outward into our everyday lives off the mat. This is the purpose of asana. It prepares our body-mind for meditation, but it also helps us integrate the meditative state into all our physical pursuits.

There’s a lot of debate in the blogging/social media world about what yoga is and is not. Popular yoga is often seen as a sped-up version of yoga asanas (postures). While a smaller, but just as vocal, camp see yoga as a whole system that includes meditation and daily life practice. As a yoga practitioner of almost 40 years, I fall into the second group. If I had to pick one aspect as the most basic foundation of yoga, I’d choose ahimsa.

Ahimsa is the first of the yamas, which comprise the first of yoga’s eight limbs, according to the yoga sutras. The yamas are moral/ethical guidelines for living consciously. Ahimsa is usually defined as non-harming. That’s a good start, but it’s more than that. Sutra scholar Alistair Shearer calls it “dynamic peacefulness.”

I love this definition. Instead of simply avoiding harm, the phrase suggests active participation in living a peaceful life. For me, it also implies a cultivated state of inner peace. We can act from this inner state of peace in our yoga practice and in our lives.

Ahimsa on the Yoga Mat

We can practice ahimsa on or off the mat. Here are some ways to explore ahimsa on the mat:

• Check Your Judgments: We all come to yoga practice with certain genetic and habitual physical qualities. Some of the qualities are conducive to certain poses. Some of them might hinder our ability to practice some poses. We are all different. Comparing yourself to others in the class can take the joy and spontaneity out of your yoga. Notice the times when you judge yourself in comparison to others—positively or negatively. (Then take care not to judge yourself for judging!) Notice how it feels. Instead, tune in to your internal experience in the pose. What can you learn?
• Check Your Breathing: Ultimately, our yoga practice should replenish our energies. But quite often, pushing and striving on the mat can actually deplete our energies. The most reliable way I’ve found to monitor my effort is to check in with my breathing. If I’m practicing at my intelligent edge, my breathing will be relaxed and deep. If I’m pushing up against my body’s limits, my breathing will feel shallow and restricted. Breathing deeply in yoga postures is what allows us to feel that incomparable calm energy after we finish Savasana (Relaxation Pose). If your breathing is restricted, back off and do less.
• Check Your Stretching: Yoga is most effective when we follow a “less is more” strategy. Western culture loves intensity and the “no pain, no gain” mentality. That’s not what asana practice is about. Pain is a signal that we may be causing harm. Aim for a mild to moderate stretch, one that gives you room to explore.

Cultivating Dynamic Peacefulness

Ahimsa off the mat is a huge practice. You could spend the rest of your life just focusing on this single yama. In my book, Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life, I go into much more detail about some of the ways of practicing ahimsa, but here are a few ideas:

• Think Before You Act: The tricky thing about ahimsa is that non-harming action can differ depending on the situation. Let go of evaluating actions as “good” or “bad.” Instead, as you consider taking an action, ponder whether you believe your action has potential to cause harm or to bring happiness. Also, ponder your intentions. Are you considering taking action out of anger, greed, jealousy or some other unskillful mental state? Or are you taking action out of compassion, kindness, generosity or some other skillful state? Mindful speech is a huge area of exploration. Here are some ideas for refining your speech.
• Cultivate Dynamic Peacefulness: When our actions are aligned with our integrity, and our choices are skillful, we naturally feel more peaceful. So practicing the above suggestion can go a long way toward cultivating dynamic peacefulness. But we can do this in our meditation and yoga practice as well. You can practice the above “Ahimsa on the Yoga Mat” suggestions. You can also take time to practice mindfulness and kindness meditations. Ultimately, we want the state of dynamic peacefulness to be where we are coming from, so that ahimsa guides our actions naturally.
• Consider Your Choices: We can express ahimsa in our lifestyle choices. For example, we can choose to buy products that are friendly to the Earth. Or we can choose whether or not to eat animals. This is a tricky one, often fraught with judgment. For some of us, the choice is easy because going meatless feels good. For others whose bodies thrive on animal products, the ahimsa-informed choice might be to consume meat. To start, pick one area that you feel passionate about—living small, getting involved in charitable causes, being available to struggling friends or family members. There are lots of ways to cultivate dynamic peacefulness in your life. What do you feel passionate about?

Please let us know how you cultivate ahimsa, on and off the mat.

What is yoga? Good question. And you’re not likely to get a concrete answer. When a philosophy has been around as long as yoga has, perhaps 5,000 to 6,000 years (even that is debatable), defining yoga is liable to be tricky.

The yoga that’s most popular in the West, Hatha Yoga, is one of five—or six—branches, depending on who you talk to. Each branch represents an aspect of human life. While many practitioners focus most of their energies on a single branch, there is overlap as well. For example, practicing raja yoga (meditation) may make us more conscientious about our actions (karma yoga). In the same way, hatha yoga or bhakti yoga (devotion) can make raja yoga more accessible. And so on.

Below are very brief synopses of the branches of yoga. Each branch could be an area for committed lifelong study, so these few sentences I offer do not do them justice. I encourage you to explore these branches on your own.

5 Branches of Yoga

• Hatha Yoga: This is the branch that most Western practitioners are familiar with. Hatha Yoga is the practice of physical postures combined with breathing practices. The intention is to harmonize the nervous system in order to create the conditions for the mind to settle. In subsequent posts, I’ll delve more deeply into this.
• Bhakti Yoga: This branch is most often associated with devotion, the ability to see the divine in all of creation. It is yoga of the heart. At an elemental level, it is also the practice of channeling our emotions in service of something larger than ourselves. Chanting—alone (bhajan) or in community (kirtan)—is fundamental to bhakti yoga, as a way to transcend the ego.
• Raja Yoga: Raja yoga is mainly concerned with the taming of the mind. Meditation, observing the mind and discovering its nature, is its fundamental practice. The intention is to gain liberation through seeing the illusory nature of our “mind stuff” so that we can unhook from delusion and dwell in the vastness of awareness.
• Jnana Yoga: This is the path of study and self-inquiry. In the same way that bhakti yoga is yoga of the heart, jnana yoga is yoga of the mind. It is sometimes to considered to be the most challenging path, because it requires years of intensive study. Jnana yoga is generally enjoyed by the more intellectually inclined.
• Karma Yoga: Karma means “action.” But that is only half of karma. The other, just as important, half is intention. Karma yoga recognizes the importance of harmonizing our actions with our intentions—aka integrity. Karma yoga also recognizes that all our actions have consequences. Selfless service is among the cornerstone practices of Karma yoga.

Further Exploration in Defining Yoga

Again, I encourage you to look further into each of these branches, how they intersect, and how they might play out in your own life. These small descriptions do not come close to encapsulating the depth and breadth of these life practices.

If you want to take a really deep dive into learning about the yoga tradition and defining yoga read Yoga: Immortality and Freedom by Mircea Eliade. It is not light reading, but it provides an extensive history of yoga’s roots and its many, many branches.

This post is part of our Yoga 101 series, which will give a glimpse into the basics of yoga philosophy and practice. Here’s another post defining yoga from the perspective of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras.

Earlier this year, I wrote a post about how to simplify your yoga cues. If you’ve ever been in a yoga class where the cues were coming at you fast and furiously, you may know how confusing it can be. I love hearing teachers explain practice in ways I’d never imagined. But sometimes constant cueing can leave no space for our own exploration. Yoga cues are very important, for students’ safety and for their growth. But if I could only give one yoga cue in my classes it would be this: Relax into where you are.

A Yoga Cue for Mastery of Asana Practice

This yoga cue aligns with Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. Of the 196 yoga sutras, these three are concerned with asana practice (as translated by Alistair Shearer):

• 2.46: The physical posture should be steady and comfortable.
• 2.47: It is mastered when all effort is relaxed and the mind is absorbed in the Infinite.
• 2.48: Then we are no longer upset by the play of opposites.

In Sutra 2.46, we learn that asana is a practice of balance—balancing stability and ease. The third niyama, tapas (inner fire) inspires us to be steady in our commitment, and strong and stable in our expression of the poses. But we balance this with a sense of ease, never pushing ourselves to the point of pain or struggle.

Balancing these two qualities opens the door to mastery. What Sutra 2.47 tells us is that mastery of asana has nothing to do with pushing our bodies to the max, or practicing “advanced” poses. Mastery arrives when we are able to relax into where we are. When we are able to relax into a pose just as it is—regardless of what it may look like from the outside—our minds and bodies become one. We become absorbed in the ever-changing sensations arising in each moment of a pose.

Our ability to rest in each moment of each pose, no matter what sensations happen to be arising, yields the most life-changing benefit of asana practice. Sutra 2.48 states that when we have mastered asana in this way, we are able to navigate the ups and downs of our lives with more grace.

Intentions for a New Year

I’ve often said when we’re practicing a seated forward bend in my classes, “Enlightenment doesn’t come from touching your head to your knee. Relax into where you are.” Of course, that doesn’t mean instant enlightenment will happen when we relax into our poses just as they are. But perhaps, for a few moments, we can touch into our inner resource of calm and peace when we allow ourselves to simply be in our poses without judgment or ambition. We can shift from the realm of doing to the realm of being.

Practicing asana in this way can help us cultivate a habit of relaxing into where we are in other areas of our lives. We all experience pleasant and unpleasant experiences in our lives. Peace doesn’t come from avoiding the unpleasant experiences; it comes from meeting them with both stability and clarity. When we practice this yoga cue on the mat, it becomes a skill we can access off the mat.

As we head into a new year, may you relax into where you are right now. May you cultivate stability and ease and enjoy the pleasures of simply being.

One of my clearest, most nostalgic memories from growing up is that of the excitement of Christmas morning. Our parents would round up my two sisters and me so that we could all converge on the living room simultaneously, run to our piles of presents, and ooooh and ahhhh in unison. The excitement of seeing my wishes granted, and the surprise of gifts I hadn’t asked for was just so much fun. That excitement sustained me through the day as we visited relatives and friends.

But the next day was always a different story. I can remember the hollow feeling that arose from knowing that the orgy of getting stuff was over. Life was back to its unexciting normal. I had a few more things, but inevitably, some of them would have already lost their sparkle. It wasn’t until much later that I began to understand that the joy my parents felt in giving was a far more sustaining feeling than the excitement of getting what I’d yearned for.

The Difference Between Heaven and Hell

A traditional Chinese parable tells the story of an old man who knows he will die soon. Worried about the afterlife, he seeks out the village wise man and asks him to tell him about heaven and hell. The wise man says, “Come, follow me.”

They walk down a long path until they come to a large dwelling. When they walk inside they find a huge dining room. In the center of the room is a long wooden table bearing a sumptuous buffet of unimaginable proportions—all the culinary delights anyone could possibly desire. Many frustrated and unhappy people ring the table. They have been given chopsticks that are twelve feet long and therefore are unable to feed themselves. The food remains untouched, the people hungry and dissatisfied. The old man says, “This must be hell.”

They walk down the path a bit further until they reach a similar large house. Inside they find the same beautiful buffet, same ring of people, same twelve-foot chopsticks. However, in this scenario there is much laughter and conviviality. The people here have learned to use the impossible utensils. “In heaven,” says the teacher, “people feed each other.”

Generosity Benefits the Giver and the Receiver

It is said that the Buddha told his monks, “If you knew, as I do, the power of generosity, you would never let a meal pass without sharing some of it.” In Asian spiritual traditions, the practice of dana, or generosity, is the foundation of spiritual life. Rather than beginning with rigorous meditation practices, seekers initially learn to practice more worldly disciplines, the first being the cultivation of generosity.

The Buddha spoke of the freedom of letting go. Our attachments to our material goods, relationships and beliefs keep us from seeing our own boundless nature. When we practice giving, we learn the happiness of letting go. It does not matter how great or small an act of generosity might be; in each instance we cultivate the habit of letting go. Each time we give we can appreciate the benefits to ourselves and others, which brings motivation to share again.

In her book, Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness, Sharon Salzberg says that “giving brings happiness at every stage of its expression. We experience joy in forming the intention to be generous; we experience joy in the actual act of giving something; and we experience joy in remembering the fact that we have given.”

“A single act of giving has a value beyond what we can imagine,” says Salzberg. “So much of the spiritual path is expressed and realized in giving: love, compassion, sympathetic joy, equanimity.”

How to Practice Generosity

There are many creative ways to cultivate generosity in our lives. One way is to resolve to follow through every time we feel the impulse to give. In practicing this resolve I’ve found that I often hear almost instantly from the voices of my own lack. These voices remind me that I might someday need the object to be given, or that I can’t possibly afford to share. While it is wise to consider the magnitude of my generosity according to the resources available to me, when the impulse arises I always follow it in some way. I have never found myself lacking because I have given.

Here are some more ideas: Buy a gift or share a meal. Donate some of your possessions to a friend or to a charitable organization. Offer some of your time and energy, perhaps volunteering for a non-profit group or serving at a shelter. Be available to the people in your life. Make a phone call to a distant friend. Write an old-fashioned longhand letter. Next time a friend wants to tell you a story or ask your advice, really listen. An act of generosity does not have to be grandiose.

Then be generous with yourself. Allow yourself to celebrate the joy you have created in another’s life and in your own. There is a huge difference between the expansive feelings that accompany an act of giving and the constricted ones that accompany the habit of wanting or hoarding. Letting yourself feel the blessings of giving can be a great motivator for future acts of kindness.

Cultivating generosity is a practice. There are times when it will be easy and times when it will not be so easy. There are times when we give freely, and times when we give with reservation. But with practice, like any other quality we choose to develop, generosity can flow freely and naturally. It can be not just a quality we have, but who we are.

In a recent post, I wrote about the Eight Limbs of Yoga. The Eight Limbs are a framework for practicing all aspects of the system of yoga. The first of these limbs is called yama. 

I consider yama to be the foundation of the whole system. Yama means “restraint.” In this context, restraint refers to using wise discrimination to consider your actions in the world, so that you create an ethical ground from which to act. The yamas are not commandments, however. They are guidelines for creating a peaceful life through your actions in the world. The yamas ask us to consider whether the actions we would like to undertake are likely to cause harm or to bring about happiness—for ourselves and others.

Like all the limbs of yoga, yama is a practice that we refine as we evolve in our lives. Applying the principles of the yamas in our lives requires that we consider them anew with each situation we find ourselves in. So, being mindful is key. The fact that there are no hard-and-fast rules makes the practice dynamic, and allows us to deepen our understanding as we move through our lives.

What follows is a very simple, very short synopsis of the yamas. Each one is worthy of a lifetime of study and practice. If you’re interested in inquiring further, my first book, Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life: A Guide for Everyday Practice, devotes a chapter to each yama, and includes ways you can incorporate the yamas into asana practice. The information below can perhaps act as a springboard for further inquiry.

The Five Yamas

Ahimsa (Non-Harming)

If yama is the foundation of the Eight Limbs of Yoga, then ahimsa is the foundation of that foundation. All the other yamas are refinements of the concept of non-harming. Ahimsa asks us to consider the possible consequences of our actions. It also asks us to be aware of our intentions. Alistair Shearer defines ahimsa as “dynamic peacefulness.” I like this way of describing it, because means we’re not simply avoiding causing harm. We are intentionally cultivating a peaceful way of being, so that over time, acting with kindness and care becomes automatic.

Satya (Truthfulness)

Truthfulness is the foundation of all our interactions in the world. In order for any relationship to grow and thrive, it must be based in truth. Being untruthful harms us by strengthening untruthfulness as a habit. It harms others because they can never feel safe when they can’t trust our intentions, words or actions. Here again, mindfulness is key. In order to recognize—and then act from—truth, we have to know what is true in the first place. We do this by looking deeply at our beliefs, habits and motivations.

Asteya (Non-Stealing)

Asteya asks us to refrain from taking what is not offered. This includes material goods (money, valuables) and also intellectual property. So we do not “help ourselves” to others’ possessions if we are not invited to do so. In the same vein, asteya guides us to ask permission and to credit others when we share their words and ideas.

Brahmacharya (Wise Use of Sexuality)

Our sexual energy is the source of our creativity. It is a powerful energy that has great potential to bring about happiness, or to cause harm if we misuse it. Sexual encounters must always be consensual, and must not be employed simply for our own self-aggrandizement. The misuse of this energy, especially by people in positions of power, is ubiquitous in all walks of life—including the yoga world. Like the other yamas, wise practice is complicated. Donna Farhi’s book, Teaching Yoga: Exploring the Teacher-Student Relationship, delves deeply into the teacher-student relationship, including the practice of brahmacharya.

Aparigraha (Non-Greed)

According to Buddhist practice, greed is one of the three sources of suffering. (The others are hatred and delusion.) It is a source of suffering because it can never be satisfied; it can only be temporarily quelled. When we get whatever it is that we want, we may feel satisfied, at least for a while. But it’s not long before some other desire arises, and leads us to pin our hopes on the next object we think we must have. Greed applies not only to material possessions, but also to relationships, experiences and the need for attention. The true sources of happiness is contentment, gratitude and appreciation for our lives as they are. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to reach our aspirations. It simply means that we understand that everything in our lives comes and goes. Happiness is available to all of us, and its potential is already inside of us. The antidote to greed is to practice generosity. When we cultivate a habit of giving, we understand more deeply the joy of letting go.

Easy Does It

Sometimes it can seem overwhelming to try to incorporate all these principles into your life. I suggest committing to practice one at a time. It can be helpful to commit to, say, a year practicing a single yama. The focus on one principle can help you incorporate it into your life more easily. Decide which of the yamas resonates most deeply for you. Then begin to apply it to the choices you make in your life.

There’s been a lot of debate in the blogging/social media world about what yoga is and is not. Popular yoga is often seen as a sped-up version of yoga asanas (postures). While a smaller, but just as vocal, camp see yoga as a whole system that includes meditation and daily life practice. As a yoga practitioner of more than 40 years, I fall into the second group. If I had to pick one aspect as the most basic foundation of yoga, I’d choose ahimsa.

Ahimsa is the first of the yamas, which comprise the first of yoga’s eight limbs, according to the yoga sutras. The yamas are moral/ethical guidelines for living consciously. Ahimsa is usually defined as non-harming. That’s a good start, but it’s more than that. Sutra scholar Alistair Shearer calls it “dynamic peacefulness.”

I love this definition. Instead of simply avoiding harm, the phrase suggests active participation in living a peaceful life. For me, it also implies a cultivated state of inner peace. We can act from this inner state of peace in our yoga practice and in our lives.

Ahimsa on the Yoga Mat

We can practice ahimsa on or off the mat. Here are some ways to explore ahimsa on the mat:

Check Your Judgments

We all come to yoga practice with certain genetic and habitual physical qualities. Some of the qualities are conducive to certain poses. Some of them might hinder our ability to practice some poses. We are all different. Comparing yourself to others in the class can take the joy and spontaneity out of your yoga. Notice the times when you judge yourself in comparison to others—positively or negatively. (Then take care not to judge yourself for judging!) Notice how it feels. Instead, tune in to your internal experience in the pose. What can you learn?

Check Your Breathing

Ultimately, our yoga practice should replenish our energies. But quite often, pushing and striving on the mat can actually deplete our energies. The most reliable way I’ve found to monitor my effort is to check in with my breathing. If I’m practicing at my intelligent edge, my breathing will be relaxed and deep. If I’m pushing up against my body’s limits, my breathing will feel shallow and restricted. Breathing deeply in yoga postures is what allows us to feel that incomparable calm energy after we finish Savasana (Relaxation Pose). If your breathing is restricted, back off and do less.

Check Your Stretching

Yoga is most effective when we follow a “less is more” strategy. Western culture loves intensity and the “no pain, no gain” mentality. That’s not what asana practice is about. Pain is a signal that we may be causing harm. Aim for a mild to moderate stretch, one that gives you room to explore.

Cultivating Dynamic Peacefulness

Ahimsa off the mat is a huge practice. You could spend the rest of your life just focusing on this single yama. In my book, Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life, I go into much more detail about some of the ways of practicing ahimsa, but here are a few ideas:

Think Before You Act

The tricky thing about ahimsa is that non-harming action can differ depending on the situation. Let go of evaluating actions as “good” or “bad.” Instead, as you consider taking an action, ponder whether you believe your action has potential to cause harm or to bring happiness. Also, ponder your intentions. Are you considering taking action out of anger, greed, jealousy or some other unskillful mental state? Or are you taking action out of compassion, kindness, generosity or some other skillful state? Mindful speech is a huge area of exploration. Here are some ideas for refining your speech.

Cultivate Dynamic Peacefulness

When our actions are aligned with our integrity, and our choices are skillful, we naturally feel more peaceful. So practicing the above suggestion can go a long way toward cultivating dynamic peacefulness. But we can do this in our meditation and yoga practice as well. You can practice the above “Ahimsa on the Yoga Mat” suggestions. You can also take time to practice mindfulness and kindness meditations. Ultimately, we want the state of dynamic peacefulness to be where we are coming from, so that ahimsa guides our actions naturally.

Consider Your Choices

We can express ahimsa in our lifestyle choices. For example, we can choose to buy products that are friendly to the Earth. Or we can choose whether or not to eat animals. This is a tricky one, often fraught with judgment. For some of us, the choice is easy because going meatless feels good. For others whose bodies thrive on animal products, the ahimsa-informed choice might be to consume meat. To start, pick one area that you feel passionate about—living small, getting involved in charitable causes, being available to struggling friends or family members. There are lots of ways to cultivate dynamic peacefulness in your life. What do you feel passionate about?

Please let us know how you cultivate ahimsa, on and off the mat.

The sutras are divided into four padas (chapters). The second pada is the one that yoga teachers and practitioners most often refer to. This is because the second pada includes the Eight Limbs of Yoga. The Eight Limbs provide a scaffolding for the whole system of yoga, according to the sutras.

While the sutras list the limbs in a particular order, they are not hierarchical. They’re not like a ladder with eight steps. Instead, all the limbs feed into the whole, kind of like the limbs on a tree. Practicing any one of the limbs supports all the others.

The Eight Limbs of Yoga

Here’s a short synopsis of the limbs:

1. Yama: Yama means “restraint.” The yamas are ethical or moral precepts for living peacefully in the world. They include ahimsa (non-harming), satya (truthfulness), asteya (non-stealing), brahmacharya (wise use of sexual energy), and aparigraha (non-greed).
2. Niyama: The niyamas are personal practices that help us create a healthy foundation for our daily lives. They include saucha (cleanliness), santosha (contentment), tapas (energy or commitment to practice), svadhyaya (self-study and study of inspiring texts) and isvara pranidhana (dedicating our practice to something larger than ourselves).
3. Asana: This is the limb we most often associate with yoga—the physical postures.
4. Pranayama: Pranayama is the practice of controlling and expanding the breath.
5. Pratyahara: The most common description of this limb is “withdrawal from the senses.” I interpret it as a refinement of our relationship with our senses.
6. Dharana: Dharana is concentration. It’s the collecting of the mind onto a single object.
7. Dhyana: Dhyana is meditation. It’s the ability of mind to stay present no matter what we are experiencing through our senses.
8. Samadhi: Samadhi is the completely settled, expansive mind.

This is just a bite-sized description of the framework for yoga practice. Any of the limbs—or even any part of the limbs, say one of the yamas—could be fodder for years of practice.

If you’re interested in learning more, my book Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life: A Guide for Everyday Practice, outlines the Eight Limbs and goes into detail about each one. There are also suggestions for ways to practice each one.

When I first began practicing mindfulness in earnest in the 1980s, relatively few people had heard of it. Over the past 10 years or so though, awareness of mindfulness has grown. As of today, Googling “mindfulness” yields a staggering 1,020,000,000 results. These days, people practice mindfulness in places as disparate as yoga studios, meditation centers and corporate retreats. While the practice appears to be simple, it’s not easy. As anyone who’s ever attempted to practice knows, our minds are like a wild monkey, constantly leaping from one thought or sensation to the next. That’s why this ancient technology for awakening spells out 4 foundations of mindfulness, to help us get a handle on our unwieldy minds.

What Is Mindfulness?

If you ask pretty much anyone what mindfulness is, most would say that it’s “being in the moment.” This is true. We must be in the moment to be mindful. But there’s more to it than simply being in the moment. Mindfulness also includes knowing what’s actually happening in the moment. We can be in the moment but not really be aware of what we’re experiencing.

For example, back in the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s, I was a fan of the Grateful Dead. I went to Dead shows whenever I could. It was sooooo much fun. When I was dancing to the Dead, I was totally absorbed in the moment, but I can’t say I was all that aware of what I was experiencing. So while I was in the moment, I wasn’t actually being mindful.

Mindfulness requires knowing what is happening in our experience. Knowing is key to developing wisdom. Mindfulness also requires that we are aware of our responses to what is happening. Are we clinging to pleasant sensations, hoping they won’t go away? Are we responding with aversion to unpleasant experiences? Awareness of our responses to present experience allows us to make choices about how we deal with the vicissitudes of our lives. This ultimately leads to the development of equanimity.

What Are the 4 Foundations of Mindfulness?

Whenever I teach a mindfulness class, one or more students invariably lament the fact that their minds seem even more jumbled and confused when they sit down to meditate. The key word here is “seem.” Our minds are no more out of control when we practice meditation than they are in the rest of our lives. What’s different is that we’re actually observing the normal state of our minds for the first time. That can be both daunting and humbling.

This is where the technology of the 4 foundations of mindfulness can be so helpful. The 4 foundations give us a framework with which to understand what is happening in each moment. The foundations help us connect with the quality of knowing. In this post, I’ll introduce the foundations. In subsequent posts I’ll delve into each foundation, and give you some ideas for how to practice with them.

The 4 Foundations of Mindfulness

1. Mindfulness of the Body: This is really the foundation of the other three foundations. That’s because everything we can be aware of arises as a sensation in the body. This practice includes awareness of whatever is coming in through our senses.
2. MIndfulness of Feeling Tone: In mindfulness practice, feeling tone is not the same as feelings or emotions. Mindfulness of feeling tone is awareness of whether what we are experiencing is pleasant, unpleasant or neutral. This provides a crucial link to understanding our responses to experience.
3. Mindfulness of Mental States and Emotions: Our mental states and emotions color our perception of experience. So it is important to understand when they are present. Knowing what filters may be distorting our perception helps us see more clearly into our experience.
4. Mindfulness of Dhammas: This foundation is quite vast. Joseph Goldstein’s book, Mindfulness: A Practical Guide to Awakening, spends a whole lot of chapters explaining the many different aspects of this foundation. It includes mindfulness of the flow of experiences, as well as unpacking universal truths of our life experience.

A Work in Progress

After 35 years of practice, I’ve come to understand mindfulness as a work in progress. It’s a practice, not a performance. I’ve found it to be helpful to approach practice with a beginner’s mind. So as I describe the 4 foundations of mindfulness in this and future posts, I’ll remind myself, and you, the reader, that what I write reflects only my present understanding, which is likely incomplete. Still, I offer this exploration into the 4 foundations of mindfulness as a jumping-off point, a way to explore mindfulness and perhaps, to give you some tools to make sense of the practice. Happy exploring!

I’ll start this post with a disclosure. I’ve been putting off writing about satya (truthfulness) for several years. It’s not because I don’t think it’s an important subject. It’s actually because I feel that it’s critically important and I want to make sure I represent it with the gravity and respect it deserves, within the bounds of a shortish blog post. Practicing satya seems to be more important than ever in these days of widespread disinformation—and the way it has harmed our national conversation. In this post, I will discuss satya as both an intention and as a practice.

Satya is the second of yoga’s yamas (moral precepts) in Patanjali’s Eight Limbs of Yoga. Satya challenges us to practice impeccable honesty in our thoughts, words and deeds. The Buddha placed truthfulness at the foundation of his five precepts (non-harming, truthfulness, non-stealing, wise use of sexuality, and refraining from intoxicants that cloud the mind). Truthfulness is also a step along the Eightfold Path.

Truthfulness as a Foundation

When I was a teenager, there were three commercial TV stations, and one public station. Everyone got their news and information from these stations and from our daily newspapers. Journalistic standards required the use of multiple sources and multiple layers of fact checking. In the age of the internet free-for-all, while journalistic standards still apply to most major media outlets, the dividing line between journalism and opinion has become quite hazy.

Many people are not trained to know how to discern between truth and opinion, or between truth and fiction. This has resulted in media consumers retreating into their corners, confusing opinion with fact, and promoting unfounded conspiracy theories that demonize the “other.” We no longer share a common foundation of agreed-upon truth.

Like any structure, a relationship’s strength relies on the integrity of its foundation. I fear that as a culture, we’ve lost this foundation. The result has been a chaos of divisiveness and demonization.

This can happen in interpersonal relationships as well. Our personal relationships can be a laboratory for practicing impeccable truthfulness. Most importantly, this includes our relationship with ourselves.

Shades of Satya

Practicing satya in our lives is not as easy as it might sound. The practice, of course, includes refraining from obvious untruthfulness, such as making up stories out of whole cloth. Satya also includes not committing lies of omission, truth shading or exaggeration. There are times when we may shade the truth or omit pertinent details in order to elevate our image or to protect us from judgment. Everyone I know, including myself, has experimented with shading the truth in one way or another. We need not judge ourselves for these lapses. In some ways, they’re part of learning how to be more truthful.

Practicing truthfulness simplifies our lives and leads to greater equanimity. Mark Twain said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” Have you ever told a lie and then had to make up a bunch of other stories to support it? And then, you have to remember what you told which person? Telling lies or shading the truth complicates our lives. It often leads to our being caught for telling stories, which, in turn erodes others’ trust in us. It’s much, much simpler to just tell the truth.

Lapses in satya can be subtle, and even unintentional. This is because we don’t always recognize the filters of perception that we layer over the truth. We may stand by a particular opinion piece simply because it bolsters our views. Or in the case of an early romance, we may ignore an unflattering truth simply because we don’t want to see it. We may think we’re seeing a situation clearly, but in fact, the perceptions we use to define ourselves and our world may be acting as filters.

Satya and Mindfulness Practice

This is where mindfulness comes in. Mindfulness practice gives us the skills to see through our filters—our deeply held beliefs and perceptions. Observing the habits of our own minds helps us identify our mental patterns and preferences. When we understand what filters are keeping us from seeing a situation clearly, we can begin to see through them. This helps us make wiser choices.

This work can be humbling. It can shatter our ideas of who we are. Sometimes the patterns we’ve chosen to nourish are not flattering. But it is always worthwhile to uncover them. First, seeing where we are prone to falter helps us generate empathy for the failings of others. Second, if we want to live a life of integrity, we have to understand the mechanisms that keep us from clear seeing. Living a life of integrity and truthfulness leads to greater ease.

How to Practice Satya on the Yoga Mat

We can use our yoga practice and teaching as a laboratory for exploring satya. Here are a few suggestions:

• Do you find yourself pushing beyond your body’s limits when you’re in a class out of fear that your normal poses are not “good” enough? Do you avoid using yoga props such as Yoga Blocks or Yoga Straps in class when you might be inclined to use them at home? If so, notice your motivation, and tune into whatever mental state might be accompanying it. For example, is anxiety, competitiveness or envy present? These mental states can function as filters. How would it be to practice the yoga that’s truest for your body in this moment, rather than trying to meet some expectation of what a “perfect” pose looks like?
• As a teacher, honesty with our students is crucial. This means admitting you don’t know the answer to a question if you truly don’t know it. Of course, you can research the student’s question and report back later if you’ve come up with an answer. You can also explore the question along with your student by asking them pertinent questions about why they’re asking, what they’re feeling, etc. Even after 40-plus years of practice, I’m well aware that I know only a fraction of what there is to know about yoga. Admitting that you don’t know is an opportunity to learn more.

Satya Is a Lifelong Practice

As with any practice, we may falter in our commitment to satya from time to time. Notice when you feel tempted to shade the truth. And give yourself a pat on the back when you refrain from doing it. As you practice and become more skilled at knowing and speaking the truth, you’ll uncover more subtle manifestations of it. Sometimes, you may need to refrain from speaking until you know for sure what your truth is—without filters. This is all part of the process, one that will enrich your relationships and lead to a life of simplicity and ease.