The Yoga Sutras

There comes a moment—often in the middle of a perfectly ordinary day—when we feel the quiet tug of discontent. Maybe it’s the gnawing sense that we live a life shaped more by expectation than authenticity. Maybe it’s the creeping suspicion that something essential remains out of reach despite our achievements. For some, this moment leads to a job change, a radical haircut, or a sudden desire to take up skydiving. For others, it leads to yoga. At first, yoga seems like a physical endeavor. We come to the mat looking for flexibility, strength, a sense of calm. We twist, stretch, and breathe, convinced that these movements alone will grant us the peace we crave. But sooner or later, the practice reveals its deeper nature: yoga is not merely about bending the body but about unbending the self.

The Art of Unbecoming

The great paradox of yoga is that it is less about adding and more about subtracting. We spend years constructing identities based on roles, achievements, and the expectations of others. We are professionals, parents, partners, seekers. We are what we do. Or at least, that’s what we tell ourselves. Yoga, however, suggests otherwise.

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras tell us that our suffering is rooted in misidentification—we mistake the transient for the essential. We confuse our thoughts, emotions, and societal roles for our true selves when, in reality, we are something far deeper. The practice of yoga offers a way to peel back these layers, revealing what lies beneath. Written over two thousand years ago, the yoga sutras, terse little aphorisms (196 in total), don’t waste words or offer easy solutions. Instead, they give us a roadmap for the inner journey—a way of being in the world that is less about escape and more about arrival.

Patanjali doesn’t ease us in. The very first sutra—Atha yoga anushasanam—essentially translates to: Now, the practice of yoga begins. There is no preamble, no backstory—just this moment. Right now. The teaching starts where you are, no matter how messy, distracted, or unready you feel. The idea that we can only access yoga once we’ve become more spiritual, flexible, or wise? That’s just the mind stalling. The doorway is open now.

The Body

Yoga understands what Western psychology is only beginning to grasp: the body holds the story of the self. Every posture and breath is a conversation with the parts of us that have been ignored or forgotten. We carry old emotions in our hips, unspoken grief in our chests, and a lifetime of tension in our shoulders. Yoga invites us to listen. In doing so, we cultivate what yogis call witness consciousness—the ability to observe our thoughts and experiences without becoming entangled. We learn to sit with physical and emotional discomfort without rushing to fix or flee from it. Over time, this practice extends beyond the mat. We become less reactive, more attuned, more present. We begin to move through life with ease that comes not from control but from surrender.

The Takeaway

At its heart, yoga is a practice of becoming—not into something new, but into what we were always meant to be. The Yoga Sutras are not a book of commandments or beliefs you must accept. They don’t promise enlightenment or a life without suffering, but they suggest that peace is possible, not in some distant future, but here. Now.