When I look at the modern world of yoga, I see familiar patterns: the yoga studio, the teacher, the aspirational "yoga body." Much of the messaging circles around self-improvement. But the deeper message, the one that stayed with me through all my trainings, is that yoga isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you've always been.
Yoga is a structure, a lineage, a practice that helps you return to yourself. It’s about unlearning the social conditioning that wears us down, the roles, the to-do lists, the expectations. Ironically, many of us find yoga in the middle of this very overwhelm. We step into class not to achieve something, but to calm down. To remember what it feels like to be in our bodies. To come home to ourselves.
This isn’t self-improvement. You were never broken. You just needed a way back.
There’s a quote that sums this up perfectly: “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” — Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
When we flip our perspective like this, life feels lighter. If every moment is just an experience, not a test or a verdict, then we can allow it to pass, like clouds in the sky. Yoga, through its eight-limbed path, teaches us how to observe more and absorb less. It reminds us that being human is hard, but we’re not alone. There’s a framework, refined through generations, that helps us live with more clarity and compassion.
The Forgetting
Modern life teaches us to strive, to compare, to achieve. These lessons start early and run deep. We’re told to find our purpose, earn a living, be good. Then we’re told to be better. Get the promotion, win the partner, build the life. Every success is celebrated. Every milestone rewarded. On paper, it works. You’re motivated. You’re stimulated. You’re “somebody.”
But somewhere along the way, we forget. Beneath the busy schedules, ambition, trauma, and pressure of our many roles—mother, partner, leader, friend—we lose touch with ourselves. We become the title. We act the part. And bit by bit, we drift.
Some thrive in this system. Others feel emptier with each checkbox ticked, wondering, is this it? I thought I’d be happy when...
Yoga Practice as a Portal
Then something shifts. Maybe we walk into a yoga class. Maybe we land on a mat without knowing why. At first, it’s just movement, maybe a workout. But something subtle happens. There's a pause. A return to breath. A sense of presence we didn’t even know we missed.
At first, we carry our usual mindset with us. We chase progress. We aim to master the pose, be like the teacher, do it “right.” We don’t know any other way yet.
But over time, something softens. We begin to realise that asana, the physical movement, isn’t a performance. No one is watching. There is no applause. It's just you and your body. And slowly, that body becomes something you trust again.
You notice how each pose feels. You observe your strength, your shakiness, your breath. And for the first time in a long time, you feel seen by yourself. You’re no longer pushing your body. You’re listening to it.
And then there’s the breath. That sacred thread. It anchors you to the moment, to the space between reaction and response. It shows up in your life without you asking. You find yourself breathing through hard moments. Soothing yourself instead of spiralling. Your mind and body begin to trust one another. And that changes everything.
The Subtle Layers
As your practice deepens, so does your curiosity. You begin exploring other aspects of yoga, like Yoga Nidra, and discover that this deep rest is different from sleep; it’s restorative on a cellular level. When you’re burned out, it becomes a powerful tool.
Then comes meditation and stillness. These aren’t just practices for peace, they’re spaces where you begin to meet yourself fully. You learn to soften your resistance, to let go. And through this, compassion and kindness become your default, not just for others, but for yourself.
The way we remember ourselves is not through thinking, but through feeling. And not just naming the feeling, but letting it move through every cell until it’s understood. The more you reconnect with yourself, the more you start to trust your intuition, not as a vague idea, but as a voice you know intimately. Because now, you’ve met her. You’ve remembered who you are.
Personal Reflection
I could list the moments that helped me unravel from the chasing and achieving, but the real turning point came with a health scare. I’d been pushing for too long. My body took over. At the time, I didn’t see it as a gift, but I do now.
Even then, I kept returning to my mat. It was the one place where I felt better. My mind softened, my worry faded, and for a few moments, I was home in myself. What started as frustration turned into curiosity. That curiosity became a lifelong quest to discover what else could help us feel better in our bodies.
During a meditation teacher training, I noticed something profound. As we shared stories from the time we’d spent apart, I realised every person in that small group was transforming. One had left a job. Another relationship. Someone had moved countries. We were just eight people, but collectively, we had covered the full spectrum of change. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was remembering.
When people feel safe enough to return to themselves, transformation becomes inevitable. And when that happens in a group, it’s contagious. There is no judgment—only reflection, connection, and shared growth.
An Invitation
Maybe someone you know left their job to travel or chase a dream. You felt inspired—or envious. That feeling? It’s your invitation.
What is it about their choice that moved you? Is it their bravery? Their willingness to leap? Is it the idea of change itself?
Yoga doesn’t have to lead you down the same path. But it will ask you to notice the pull. And it will help you follow it.
Every teaching in yoga will land differently for each of us. That’s the beauty. It’s not about mastering the pose. It’s about coming home to yourself.
"Yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self." — The Bhagavad Gita
Aren’t you curious who you are beneath the layers, the noise, and the expectations? Beneath it all, you are still there—the dreamer, the lover, the creator. Yoga won’t make you something new. It helps you remember who you’ve always been.
