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Returning to Yourself: The True Essence of Yoga

Aug 1, 2025
5 min read

Updated: Sep 18

Yoga is not a stretch class. It is a map home to yourself.



Return to yourself
Return to yourself

A sage named Patanjali set out the Eightfold Path a very long time ago. What he described sits underneath thought: the beliefs we took on without ever agreeing to them, the bracing we carry in the shoulders, the way the breath shortens before we know we are afraid. Eight limbs. Not a ladder to climb. Eight doors into the same room.


I work with people through hypnosis, breath and the body, and I keep meeting these eight in the room. They are practical. Most of what they point at is something you already know and have stopped listening to.


Walk them with me.



Live Kindly: Yama


Imagine pausing before you answer a tense email and choosing softer words. That small act of non-harm is Yama in motion. The ethical roots of yoga guide us to speak truth, share generously, use energy wisely, and travel light with possessions and opinions.


The subconscious does not sort by audience. Every judgment you practise out loud, you are also rehearsing inward, so non-harm is doing two jobs at once.


Notice where you are least kind. For most people it is not a stranger. It is the sentence they say to themselves after a mistake. Catch one unkind thought about someone else today, then check whether you hold the same standard over your own head.



Nurture Within: Niyama


Picture pouring tea and sitting with your journal at dawn. You tidy mind and space, note three gratitudes, commit to your creative work, and whisper a quiet prayer of trust. This is Niyama, tending the inner garden through cleanliness, contentment, discipline, self-study, and surrender.


Svadhyaya, the self-study one, is the limb closest to the work I do in trance. Studying yourself means going looking for the sentences you never chose. I have to earn rest. It's safer to stay small. You can obey one of those for thirty years without noticing it was handed to you.


Reading with presence deepens this care. A poem, a scripture, even a diary entry becomes a mirror. Pause after each line and feel the breath of awareness.

If you want a quick way in, finish the sentence "people like me don't…" three times, fast, without editing. Whatever comes out is older than you think, and probably not yours.


Move Creatively: Asana


Step onto your mat. Each pose is a brushstroke of creativity where effort meets ease. Inhale and draw a line of possibility, exhale and soften its edges.


Patanjali gives posture about one line: steady and comfortable. He was describing a relationship with the body. The shape itself was almost beside the point. And the body keeps its own record. Your history is stored as posture, as holding, as the places you cannot quite breathe into, which is why somatic work reaches things that talking about them does not.


The body speaks a language beyond words, expressing moods and intentions through shape and flow. Some days it is worth moving for five minutes with nothing planned, letting the body choose. Ask it what it has been carrying. The answer tends to arrive as a sensation rather than a sentence.



Ride the Breath: Pranayama


Try this right now. Inhale for four counts, pause for two, exhale for six. Notice shoulders melt and thoughts slow.


This is the most direct access you have to your inner state. Breath is the one automatic function you can take the controls of, and a long exhale tells a braced nervous system that it can stand down. The calm comes through the body first and the mind catches up a few seconds later.


It is also why breath opens doors. A regulated nervous system is a receptive one, and in sessions almost nothing moves until the breath has softened. That took me a while to trust.


When you notice you are gripping, lengthen the exhale for ten rounds, then look again at whatever you were so certain about.



Quiet the Noise: Pratyahara


Close the laptop, rest palms on the belly, and listen to your heartbeat. Senses turn inward, city sounds fade, and you meet quiet spaciousness. That return is Pratyahara.


We live in a moment built to make this hard. Every notification pulls attention outward, and attention pulled outward all day never turns around to ask what is happening inside. It is why so many people cannot answer the question what do you want. The answer is usually already there. Nothing has been quiet enough for them to hear it.


Withdrawal of the senses is the threshold. Trance, meditation and intuition all live on the other side of it. An hour a day with no input is enough to begin. No podcast, nothing in the ears at all. Let it be boring. Something usually surfaces about twenty minutes in.



Focus the Mind: Dharana


Light a candle and keep your gaze steady. When thinking drifts to dinner plans, smile and come back to the flame. Each return is mental strength training.


Concentration is what makes hypnosis possible. Focused attention in a relaxed body is more or less what trance is, and you already know the state from driving a familiar road or getting lost in a book. Dharana is doing on purpose what you have always done by accident.


And the returning is the practice. Each time you notice you have wandered and come back, you are teaching the mind who is holding the reins. Three minutes with one candle is a real session. Count the returns instead of judging them.



Rest in Awareness: Dhyana


Soon concentration flows without bumps. You are aware of awareness itself, carried like a leaf on water. This effortless meditation is Dhyana.


Something loosens here. The part of the mind that sorts and protects and keeps you consistent with who you have always been steps back, and that opening is where identity shift becomes possible. New beliefs do not take root while the gatekeeper is still arguing with them. You cannot force the state. You can set the conditions and wait, sometimes for a long time.



Taste Unity: Samadhi


Every now and then the leaf dissolves and only water remains. Words fall silent. The dancer and the dance are one. This is Samadhi, a glimpse of boundless belonging.


Anyone who has been lost in making something knows this. The painting painting itself. Three hours gone and the tea on the table stone cold. The self that monitors and measures goes quiet, and something moves through you. It may be that the creative state and this one are the same thing, described by different people.



Living Yoga Off the Mat


Yoga promises freedom, not flexibility. It is the breath you choose when overwhelmed, the kind phrase you offer yourself after a mistake, the moment you stop to feel the sunset on your skin.


Laid end to end, the eight limbs cover how you treat people, how you tend yourself, how you live inside your body and where you place your attention. A whole technology of change, written down long before anyone had the vocabulary we reach for now.

Creative acts are yoga too. Painting, baking, songwriting, or molding clay invite discipline and focus that slide into meditation. Making becomes prayer, a doorway to presence. Creating belongs inside the work rather than waiting at the end of it as a reward.


Which brings me to the question I end up asking almost everyone I sit with. What wants to be expressed through you?


Maybe today yoga is three conscious breaths.

Maybe it is a brave no.


Maybe it is barefoot grass and a whispered thank you.

All are threads weaving you back to who you have always been.


Want to walk the eight limbs, one day at a time?


Yoga Beyond the Mat is my free 8-day series. One practice a day, about two minutes each, built for kitchens and desks and waiting rooms rather than for a mat. Breath, attention, the body, and the small daily kindnesses that hold it all together.



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