I started practicing yoga in 2002 because 9/11 happened, my abusive relationship ended, a patch of hair fell out on the side of my head, and I was trying to stop using drugs. You know, that’s all, no big deal….

It’s incredible really, what we’ll turn to when life is falling apart. Thankfully, a friend was there for me who said, “come with me to yoga”. I had been studying a bit of Buddhism for a few years at that point and I knew there was some element of meditation common between the two disciplines, and that there was a focus on specific movement with breath, but that was about it. So, my friend suggested I do a short introduction course at The Integral Yoga Institute on W. 13th St, so I did. I don’t recall a lot about it, but I do remember that on the first visit there was not much movement, a lot of breathing, a woman in white with a turban, and dim lights — and it helped me. I left feeling “better” every time. So, after that course, Boden said, “OK, now come with me to Jivamukti, Sharon’s teaching on Saturday”. And we went. I remember quite a lot about that experience — mainly that it was one of the hardest physical activities I’d ever done, I sweat bullets, Sharon’s presence was powerful, AND she started class with a PETA video that left me shocked, offended, sad, and confused. I remember thinking, “what the heck does this have to do with yoga?!”.

Now, this is not a blog about veganism, but on reflection, I am pretty blown away that this was the experience I had because it truly does feel as if it were meant for me. The universe at work, so to speak. Because all of that played out in such a way that spoke to me, challenged me (and I respond to challenge), and motivated me to want to understand. Right from the start these initial experiences with yoga teaching showed me that there was A LOT more to yoga than postures.

And for me, this is where Patanjali and the eight limbs come in. Approximately fifteen hundred years ago this sage compiled what is called ashtanga (ashta = 8; anga = limb) yoga. He took information that had been handed down for centuries through precise Sanskrit chanting and codified it in written form providing us a guidebook for practice. The first chapter describes what yoga is and the second tells us how to practice it. The second chapter, or “pada”, is titled “Sadhana Pada” because sadhana is the word for practice — a committed spiritual discipline. Mid way through this chapter practice is laid out in an eight component form:

2.29  yama-niyamasana-pranayama-pratyahara-dharana-dhyana-samadhayo ‘stavangani

The eight limbs (angas) are abstentions/restraints, observances, posture, breath control, 

inward turning of the senses, concentration, meditation, and absorption.

These limbs provide a path — a guidebook to developing one’s yogic potential — but, it’s not a straight line and varies amongst us in terms of how it works in our lives. Each of these limbs contributes to the overall practice while also existing independently as a practice unto its own. The key is recognizing and remembering that there is a common purpose underlying them all:  attaining spiritual liberation — remembering our true nature.

There are a few key points about these limbs that I relish:

1. The limbs offer something for everyone to take on as a practice: you don’t have to practice asana (posturing) to be a yogi! I do it because I love it, plain and simple. I feel that it has served as a means for me to explore, understand and who I am and sometimes even overcome who I cling to being (in terms of this temporary physical form). That said, the other limbs provide fertile ground for integrating practice throughout my life and that continues to evolve and take on greater importance and meaning as time passes.

2. The limbs are taking us somewhere we already ARE! There is nothing wrong or lacking in you — it’s just that we lack awareness of our true nature. Yoga can serve as a means to realize this and sometimes that yoga happens through breath work (pranayama), sometimes through meditation (dhyana), and sometimes through being a good person in the world (yamas), and so on….

3. The limbs benefit from community. It’s hard to go it alone. Even monks live in a monastery with other monks. Community provides a foundation of support, encouragement and reality-check that helps keep us alive in practice.

At the end of the day, I’m grateful for many things related to what yoga has brought to my life — but, most of all, I’m grateful it’s connected me in a positive uplifting way to so many of you. Thank you.