• On Forgiveness

    Forgiveness has a place in every culture and in virtually every spiritual tradition. Different societies have developed rituals and practices through which individuals and communities seek reconciliation.

    In Arab society, for example, there is a tradition known as sulha—a structured process of reconciliation intended to resolve conflicts, sometimes even those that have led to cycles of violence and bloodshed. In Judaism, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is a day devoted to repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation. The Hebrew word kippur derives from kaparah, meaning atonement. The entire month of Elul, and especially the first ten days of the Jewish year, between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, are traditionally devoted to reflection, self-examination, repentance, and asking for forgiveness.

    In both Yoga and Buddhism, forgiveness can be practiced in three directions:

    • asking forgiveness from others for harm we have caused;
    • forgiving ourselves;
    • forgiving those who have harmed us.

    Although these three forms of forgiveness are interconnected, each involves a different inner process.

    Asking Forgiveness for Harm We Have Caused

    To ask forgiveness for harm we have caused, we must first acknowledge that we have done something wrong and take responsibility for it. Genuine remorse can then give rise to a sincere and practical determination not to cause similar harm again. This requires a process of inner inquiry: we need to look deeply into the circumstances and inner causes that led us to act as we did.

    We also need to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: the potential for wrongdoing, aggression, and violence exists within every one of us. The seeds are there. Whether they germinate and result in harmful action depends on the conditions and circumstances in which we grow and live.

    Only when we fully acknowledge that we are capable of hurting others, and of acting aggressively out of anger, hatred, or fear, can we begin to recognize these seeds of violence and learn how to transform them. From this recognition, a genuine request for forgiveness can arise.

    Forgiving Ourselves

    Self-forgiveness is the ability to free ourselves from guilt and from endless cycles of self-reproach.

    Guilt may be a natural response to having done something wrong, but it does not necessarily serve us. It can keep us trapped in the past, repeatedly reliving what happened. We can regret our mistakes and learn from them, using that understanding to change the way we act in the future. But guilt is directed toward the past—and the past, as we know, cannot be changed.

    Some people judge themselves far more harshly than they judge others. This can create enormous suffering, without serving any constructive purpose. Moreover, excessive self-condemnation can make it difficult, or even impossible, to forgive others.

    Self-forgiveness does not mean excusing our actions or denying responsibility. It means accepting what happened, learning from it, and allowing ourselves to move forward.

    Forgiving Those Who Have Hurt Us

    This may be the most difficult form of forgiveness.

    Before we can begin, we need to understand what forgiveness is—and what it is not.

    • Forgiveness is ultimately in our own interest. Continuing to carry anger, hatred, and resentment can cause profound suffering. Forgiveness offers us a way to loosen their grip.
    • Forgiveness may be a long process. We may need to come to terms with loss, pain, betrayal, anger, or grief. We need to give ourselves time to mourn what we have lost and what will never return.
    • Revenge and grief take us in very different directions. Revenge is a natural response to being hurt. It can even feel attractive because it gives us an active way to discharge our anger. Yet revenge does not heal the wound; it perpetuates and intensifies the cycle of violence and suffering. Grief, by contrast, is painful and often passive, but through grieving there may eventually come a possibility of healing—and, with it, the possibility of forgiveness.
    • Forgiveness cannot be forced. Because it is a long process, it requires great patience. We should not try to hurry ourselves toward acceptance or forgiveness. We can forgive only to the extent that we are ready. There may be injuries we cannot forgive now—and perhaps some we may never be able to forgive.
    • Forgiveness does not depend on the other person. The person who hurt us may never acknowledge what they did or express remorse. We can nevertheless choose to forgive—not because what happened was acceptable, but because we do not want to remain bound to the injury and the pain of the past.
    • Forgiveness does not mean forgetting. We do not have to erase the memory of what happened. Rather, we choose not to carry the injury as an ongoing source of hatred or to allow it to determine our actions.

    We can also draw inspiration from people who have demonstrated extraordinary capacities for forgiveness. The Dalai Lama and Martin Luther King Jr. are well-known examples. Another powerful example can be found among members of the Parents Circle—Families Forum, an organization of Israelis and Palestinians who have lost close family members in the conflict. Despite experiencing the deepest possible loss, they choose to work toward reconciliation and a different future. Their commitment to forgiveness does not mean that they forget their losses.

    Trauma can also become deeply embedded in the body. Somatic practices can sometimes help release experiences and patterns that have become held or “locked” in the body.

    There is a well-known saying that expresses the essence of forgiveness: “Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could be any different.”

    The past cannot be changed. Hoping that it could have been otherwise keeps us bound to something that no longer exists. Forgiveness means gradually releasing the suffering, pain, and betrayal of the past, and allowing ourselves to live more fully in the present.

    Choosing forgiveness is not easy. But it is possible.

    Even under the most inhuman and extreme circumstances, there remains a degree of freedom in how we respond to what happens to us. In the concentration camps, where it might have seemed that every aspect of a person’s humanity and freedom had been taken away, Viktor Frankl observed that one freedom remained: the freedom to choose one’s attitude toward the circumstances.

    Frankl wrote:

    “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in a given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

    The people who comforted others in the camps, shared their last piece of bread, and tried to preserve the dignity of others demonstrated that this freedom could survive even in the most extreme conditions.

    One of the greatest forms of freedom is the ability to choose our response regardless of the circumstances.

    Another extraordinary example is Etty Hillesum, a young Jewish woman who lived in the Netherlands during the Second World War. Although she had opportunities to save herself, she chose to remain with her people and eventually went to the camps, where she sought to support and encourage others.

    When a person is confronted with a situation that cannot be changed—whether a serious illness, imprisonment, or another form of unavoidable suffering—a path may still remain open: the possibility of transforming personal tragedy into a human victory through the attitude one chooses to adopt toward one’s fate.

    Forgiveness in Yoga and Buddhism

    In Sanskrit, the word Kṣamā means forgiveness, but its meaning is broader than that. It also conveys patience, forbearance, endurance, and the capacity to bear an insult, injury, or difficulty without responding with resentment or retaliation.

    In the philosophy of Yoga, forgiveness is not merely an act directed toward another person. It is, first and foremost, a practice of inner liberation. Holding on to anger and resentment can become a kleśa—an affliction that disturbs the mind, binds the practitioner, and obstructs meditation and inner freedom.

    Many teachers understand forgiveness as a profound expression of ahiṃsā, non-violence or non-harming. Ahiṃsā is not limited to refraining from physical violence. It also involves ending the inner violence we direct toward ourselves and others when we remain trapped in anger, resentment, and the refusal to forgive.

    At this level, it is difficult to practice genuine non-harming without addressing the injuries we carry within ourselves.

    In several Haṭha Yoga texts and Upanishads, including the Śāṇḍilya Upanishad and the Haṭha Yoga Pradīpikā, ten yamas are described—five additional ethical restraints beyond the five presented by Patañjali. Here Kṣamā, understood as forgiveness or forbearance, appears explicitly as an ethical quality to be cultivated by the yogi.

    The Bhagavad Gītā

    In Chapter 16 of the Bhagavad Gītā, Śrī Kṛṣṇa describes the divine qualities (Daivī Sampad) that support spiritual liberation. Among them he includes Kṣamā, forgiveness or freedom from resentment, alongside qualities such as compassion, truthfulness, and freedom from anger.

    A traditional teaching attributed to the Bhagavad Gītā expresses the spirit of forgiveness in these words (Translation of Radhakrishnan):

    “Vigour, forgiveness, fortitude, purity, freedom from malice and excessive pride-these, O Pandava (Arjuna), are the endowments of him who is born with the divine nature.” XVI.3

    Swami Śivānanda of Rishikesh also repeatedly emphasized the connection between Kṣamā and inner peace. He famously described forgiveness as “the ornament of the strong.” Without the willingness to forgive, he taught, the mind cannot become truly peaceful, and deep meditation remains difficult.

    The Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh spoke a lot about forgiveness, reconciliation, and releasing ourselves from suffering rooted in the past. He gave practical instructions and practices that help to foster forgiveness; see for example this article.

    Practices of Forgiveness

    One of the distinctive features of the Eastern traditions is that they offer many formal practices for cultivating forgiveness. These practices are gradual and can be approached step by step.

    They are closely related to the cultivation of maitrī, karuṇā, muditā, and upekṣā, described by Patañjali in Yoga Sūtra I.33: friendliness or loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity.

    Such practices involve repeating phrases or intentions expressing wishes for happiness, health, peace, and freedom from suffering. In karuṇā, the cultivation of compassion, for example, we may wish that suffering be reduced and, if possible, come to an end.

    A Simple Forgiveness Meditation

    The following practice can be incorporated into a regular meditation or Yoga practice:

    1. Sit comfortably.
    Bring your attention to the breath and to the center of the chest, around the area of the Anāhata Chakra.

    2. Forgiving yourself.
    Bring to mind a situation in which you made a mistake or hurt someone. Silently repeat:

    “I forgive myself for what I did not know then. I forgive myself for my limitations.”

    3. Forgiving another person.
    Bring to mind someone who has hurt you. Try to see this person as another human being, acting from their own limitations, conditioning, or suffering. Silently repeat:

    “Just as I wish to be free from suffering, may you also be free from suffering. I release my grievances toward you.”

    4. Begin with what is easier.
    Forgiveness practices should begin with relatively minor injuries—situations in which the hurt was not overwhelming. Gradually, as our capacity grows, we can bring more difficult experiences into the practice.

    Somatic Work: Āsana

    Resentment, fear, and anger can have a strong physical component. They may manifest as tension and habitual holding in different areas of the body.

    Asana practice can help us become aware of these patterns and, gradually, release some of the tension associated with them. Backbends that open the chest, for example, or practices that create space around the pelvis, may be experienced as particularly supportive when working with emotional holding.

    The purpose is not to assume that a particular emotion is literally “stored” in a particular part of the body, but rather to use the body as a doorway through which we can become aware of and work with deeply held patterns of tension and protection.

    Non-Attachment: Vairāgya

    An important aspect of forgiveness in Yoga is vairāgya—letting go of attachment to the past and of our desire to control another person’s behavior.

    Forgiveness is, in part, an acceptance of reality as it is. It means refusing to allow what happened in the past to continue blocking our path in the present.

    This requires a considerable capacity for letting go: letting go of anger, resentment, fantasies of revenge, and the wish that the past had been different.

    Forgiveness does not mean saying that what happened was right. It does not mean forgetting, excusing, or abandoning our boundaries.

    It means choosing not to let the injury determine the rest of our lives.

    Ultimately, forgiveness is an act of freedom.

  • Subtle Forms of Himsa

    In a previous article, I discussed Ahimsa and explained the difficulty of practicing this basic Yama. Adhering to Ahimsa is very challenging when we feel threatened or attacked. Hence, we need to uproot all the seeds of Himsa (violence, the wish to harm) within us.

    Deep in our consciousness, there are different kinds of seeds: seeds of negative qualities and seeds of positive ones. The practice of yoga is about developing and nurturing the good seeds, such as Ahimsa.

    It is true that most people who come to yoga have good intentions and — under normal circumstances — will not be aggressive or violent. But there are subtler forms of Himsa that may still be present, and these subtle forms may sprout under certain circumstances. Subtle forms of Himsa can also be observed in our practice. Let us look at some of them.

    Expecting and Demanding

    Even if you are generally a kind and good person, you may not be kind to yourself. If you are not kind to yourself, then subtle Himsa is still present within you. If you do not accept and love yourself as you are, you will not be able to fully accept and love others as they are.

    If you are in a position of authority and force your views on others, demanding that they behave in ways that do not suit them or align with their values, then there is subtle Himsa. You hurt other people through your demands.

    For example, parents may expect too much from their children. Some parents demand that their children pursue a vocation or field of study that conflicts with the children’s tendencies and dispositions. If the parents are not attentive to the deep wishes of their children, or if they think they know better and pressure their children to conform to their demands, then they are behaving in a Himsa-like way.

    In the same way, we can say that the mind holds a position of authority over the body. The mind tells the body what to do. If, in practice, we demand from the body things it cannot do, or things it is not inclined to do, or if we go against the true needs of the body at a specific time, then we attack the body and may injure it.

    I remember B.K.S. Iyengar once said: “The wanting is from the brain, but the body cannot do.”

    We should be kind to ourselves in our practice, consider our limitations and needs, and not demand from the body what it cannot do. This requires mindfulness and sensitivity.

    Whenever we are not sensitive to our body — or, more generally, to other people, other creatures, or even the environment — there is the possibility of Himsa.

    Other Forms of Subtle Himsa

    Two other subtle forms of Himsa are negligence and consuming others’ time and energy.

    Sometimes, not doing an action that needs to be done can itself be Himsa. Ignoring or neglecting may harm more than deliberate harm.

    For example, a worker may feel insulted if a colleague greets everyone upon entering the office but ignores that one worker.

    Another example is failing to invite someone to an event to which they should have been invited.

    Parents can seriously hurt their children if they ignore them, or if they give one child less attention than the others.

    Generally speaking, if it is your responsibility to care for certain people and you avoid doing so, you may harm them.

    If you talk without paying attention to whether your speech is meaningful or welcome to the listener, then you consume the listener’s time and energy. Maybe the listener wishes to remain silent, or perhaps your talk is not interesting to them, or even annoys them. This is a subtle form of Himsa, but we all know how irritating it can be.

    If you are late to a meeting and everybody is waiting for you, then you are consuming their time. Time is a valuable resource. We can buy property, but we cannot buy time; therefore, we should be careful not to waste other people’s time.

    Even giving, when done without sensitivity, can become Himsa. You may give in order to improve your self-image because you want to see yourself as kind and generous, yet you may do so without considering the receiver’s needs and wishes. The receiver may not need what you offer, or accepting the offer may embarrass them or make them feel inferior. In such cases, accepting what you want to give may actually make the receiver feel worse.

    One may also injure through inappropriate sexual conduct; in certain situations, even staring can be offensive.

    To Sum Up

    We see that goodwill, important and necessary as it is, is not always enough. Sometimes even the best intentions may cause harm.

    To practice Ahimsa, one must develop sensitivity. To establish true Ahimsa, you need to be sensitive both to yourself and to others.

    Sensitivity requires presence. When the mind is filled with disturbing thoughts and worries, we are not truly in the moment, and we simply do not see clearly what is happening within us and around us.

    To be sensitive, the mind should be alert, open, and quiet. One should remain in the present moment — the only time in which life actually happens.

    The practice of all the limbs of yoga cultivates mindful presence and therefore supports Ahimsa. All the limbs of yoga support one another and should be practiced together.

  • Yoga and Aging — Reflections

    Yoga and Aging — Reflections

    Introduction

    The Yoga and Aging Program, which concluded in November, has been a deeply insightful journey. I learned a great deal from my colleagues and friends: Karin Stephan, Patricia Walden, Peentz Dubble, and Rahel Wasserfall (the program’s coordinator). Although we didn’t meet face-to-face, we had profound online conversations throughout the years of our participation.

    In preparing for the closing panel—and after it—I spent time contemplating some of the questions that Rahel raised.
    Here, I would like to address the following questions from the closing panel:

    1. How have your many years of practice helped you accept the inevitable changes of aging?
    2. Do you agree that wisdom comes out of crisis? Can a yoga practice also cultivate wisdom?
    3. Does aging change the relative importance of the components of Kriya Yoga (Tapas, Svadhyaya, and Ishvara Pranidhana, Sutra II.1)? If so, how?
    4. What have you learned by participating in the program?
    5. Can you offer the participants some gifts—some advice from your experience—that will help them age more gracefully?
    a person sitting in a tree

    Accepting the Inevitable

    Accepting that you can do less, that your body has increasing limitations, and that your level of energy is decreasing is not easy.

    I want to briefly mention a few thoughts in response to these questions—many of which were also raised by the other panel participants.

    A very central point for me is cultivating gratitude. In a previous post, I gave instructions for a “Gratitude Meditation”. Gratitude allows us to see the whole picture—not only what we lose or miss, but also what we still have and what we have gained through years of learning and practicing. As Patricia said, “There is always something to feel gratitude about and to be grateful for.”

    Yes, we may experience more physical limitations in our practice and daily life. But we can still do many things. Even the simple facts that we are healthy enough to breathe, move, think, and feel are not to be taken for granted. We can still see and hear—maybe not as well as before—but our senses and mind still function well enough. This is ot easy, but appreciating the many years we enjoyed sound health, and observing the cyclic nature of all natural phenomena, can help us accept these changes. Flowers bloom and then wither away; this is natural, and no one sheds tears!

    We should also appreciate the wisdom and experience we have accumulated over the years: from living, interacting with people, learning, and, of course, practicing yoga. Our actions now can be performed with greater discernment and skill, helping us avoid unnecessary expenditure of energy.

    Aging Doesn’t Mean Becoming Less

    While the body may not be as strong or vibrant as it once was, aging also brings many gifts. We are freer; we have fewer duties and obligations. We no longer need to chase name and fame. We are released from the work routines needed to earn a living and support a family. We have already proven ourselves.

    Now we can enjoy quiet time and learn to immerse ourselves in silence—where many new insights may arise.

    Curiosity, Wonder, and Awe

    It is important to maintain curiosity and a sense of wonder. Don’t assume it’s too late to learn new things or have new adventures. Don’t think you have experienced everything.

    Sometimes, challenge yourself and revisit asanas you have abandoned because you believed you could no longer perform them. Of course, this should be done wisely, with full respect for the current condition of your body.

    If you frequently catch yourself thinking, “I’m too old for this,” reconsider. Are you truly too old, or is it simply mental rigidity?

    Stretch your mind beyond what you think is possible. Many so-called limitations are not physical but mental.

    Can We Gain Wisdom Without a Crisis?

    It is certainly true that dukkha (discontent, dissatisfaction, and suffering) motivates many people to embark on a spiritual journey. Many great teachers—including B.K.S. Iyengar—grew spiritually through suffering. Often, a major crisis makes us reevaluate life and see it with new eyes. People facing life-threatening situations often realize that chasing fame and success does not bring happiness; relationships and human connection matter far more.

    When the rug is pulled from under your feet (as Peentz put it) and you realize you cannot control the situation, you must rely on deeper wisdom—the eternal wisdom that sages and spiritual traditions impart. Connecting to your true Self, the inner core of stability and joy beyond the ever-changing phenomenal world, frees you from fear.

    But people differ in how they respond to a crisis. For Gautama, it was enough simply to witness three forms of dukkha—sickness, aging, and death—to set him on a spiritual path that led to awakening and becoming a Buddha. He did not need to experience extreme suffering personally. So, in principle, transformation without personal crisis is possible—but it is probably rare.

    Do the Components of Kriya Yoga Change with Age?

    I believe they do. After many years of practice, we may not need to emphasize Tapas (discipline, effort, the burning desire for transformation) to the same extent. We have already established discipline and approach practice with greater maturity.

    We may need to give more attention to Ishvara Pranidhana—letting go, accepting, surrendering.

    Letting go of attachments is important at any age, but aging requires us to let go of more and more:

    • Let go of the image of yourself as someone admired for performing impressive asanas.
    • Let go of competitiveness and achievement-orientation.
    • Let go of a fast-paced life and the desire to accomplish many projects; learn to rest and take time for yourself.
    • Let go of expecting others to make you happy. If you live long enough, you will inevitably become more alone; take responsibility for your own happiness.
    • Let go of thinking that aging means becoming less or that your options are limited; instead, appreciate that you have lived long enough to love, fail, learn, become wiser, and enjoy life’s offerings.
    • Let go of comparing yourself to younger people—or to your younger self. Comparison only brings suffering.
    • Let go of blaming yourself for past mistakes; appreciate that you learned from each one. Mistakes are human—be compassionate with yourself. Forgive yourself. No one is more deserving of care and forgiveness than you.
    Yoga and aging - Śavāsana pose

    The True Meaning of Life

    Karin reminded us of a very important aspect of practice: we strive for a healthy, strong body and a clear, balanced mind so that we can forget ourselves and dedicate our efforts to helping others. She quoted the Dalai Lama.

    In our Shala, we have a quote from the 14th Dalai Lama on the wall. I see it almost every day (and it never feels too often), so I can quote it from memory:

    “We are visitors on this planet. We are here for one hundred years at the very most. During that period, we must try to do something good, something useful with our lives. If you contribute to other people’s happiness, you will find the true meaning of life.”

    If the body is weak or prone to illness, it is difficult to forget it and turn your attention outward. Similarly, if the mind is agitated, your energy is consumed by emotional disturbances, leaving little room to see and help others.

    Our practice builds a strong, healthy body and gives us—as Mr. Iyengar said—“intellectual clarity and emotional stability.” When these are present, the mind becomes transparent. It becomes empty of self-concerns, and you can contribute to others’ happiness rather than being absorbed in your own problems.

    In Light on Life, Iyengar writes:
    “…when we are free from physical disabilities, emotional disturbances, and mental distractions, we open the gates to our soul (atman).” (pp. 22–23)

    He also writes:
    “As long as the body is not in perfect health, you are caught in body consciousness alone… We need sound bodies so we can develop sound minds.” (p. 24)

    A profound motivation to continue practicing is remembering that we do not practice for ourselves alone. If the practice gives us peace and joy—as it does for me—this radiates to the people around us. We can never know how far such effects may spread. Perhaps even a simple smile can change someone’s day. They, in turn, may be kinder to others, and the effect may ripple outward in ways we cannot foresee.

  • The Five Elements in Practice – Short Version

    The Five Elements in Yoga Practice

    Yoga sees the material world (Prakriti) as composed of five elements (Mahābhūtas):
    Earth, Water, Fire, Air, and Ether (Space).
    These elements can guide both our asana and pranayama practice, physically and mentally.


    1. Earth 🌍

    • Qualities: Solidity, stability, firmness.
    • In the body: Bones, skeleton, structure.
    • In practice: Grounding, compactness of the limbs, weight-bearing actions.
    • Mind: Steadiness, willpower.
    • Imbalance: Stubbornness, heaviness (Tamas).

    2. Water 💧

    • Qualities: Flow, softness, adaptability.
    • In the body: Organs, fluids.
    • In practice: Keep organs soft, senses relaxed.
    • Mind: Flexibility, openness.
    • Imbalance: Instability, easily influenced.

    3. Fire 🔥

    • Qualities: Heat, energy, transformation.
    • In the body: Digestive fire, circulation, metabolism.
    • In practice: Dynamic movement, tapas (effort).
    • Mind: Clarity, sharpness, courage.
    • Imbalance: Restlessness, agitation (Rajas).

    4. Air 🌬️

    • Qualities: Movement, expansion, mobility.
    • In the body: Breath, circulation, nervous system.
    • In practice: Chest opening, conscious breathing.
    • Mind: Creativity, shifting perspectives.
    • Imbalance: Restlessness, scattered mind.

    5. Ether (Space) ✨

    • Qualities: Spaciousness, openness, extension.
    • In the body: Cavities, subtle energy field.
    • In practice: Create space in joints, lungs, and mind.
    • Mind: Tranquility, equanimity, open-mindedness.
    • Imbalance: Lack of grounding, detachment from reality.

    Quick Summary for Practice

    • Earth – Ground, connect to bones, stability.
    • Water – Keep soft tissues relaxed, flow.
    • Fire – Build heat, dynamic effort, transformation.
    • Air – Breathe fully, move with lightness.
    • Space – Expand, relax, create mental quiet.

  • The Five Elements – What are they and how they can Guide our Practice

    The Five Elements – What are they and how they can Guide our Practice

    What They Are and How They Can Guide Our Practice

    According to yoga, the material world (Prakriti) is composed of five gross elements, or Mahābhūtas. In Astadala Yoga Mala (AYM), B.K.S. Iyengar writes:

    “Performance of asana can also be studied and understood in terms of the five elements: earth, water, fire, air, and ether.” (Vol. II, p. 210)

    Indeed, these Five Elements can serve as a paradigm to guide and deepen our practice of āsana and prāṇāyāma. One of the online courses I offer explores this. subject

    In this article, I will briefly explain the Five Elements and then share some insights from my practice that is sometimes guided by them.


    What Are the Five Elements?

    For the Western scientific mind, descriptions such as “earth” and “water” as the basic constituents of nature may seem primitive. However, the ancient yogis and Ayurvedic healers used metaphors. We can reinterpret them in modern terminology as follows:

    1. Earth – solid state
    2. Water – liquid state
    3. Fire – energy
    4. Air – gaseous state
    5. Ether – space

    In fact, the ancient metaphors may be more vivid and evocative than their modern equivalent.


    Characteristics of the Elements

    • Earth – solidity, hardness, heaviness, firmness, compactness, robustness.
    • Water – flow and softness. Water also represents contact and balance: when poured into a container, it fills it evenly, touching every side and balancing itself horizontally.
    • Fire – heat, dynamism, and energy. Fire purifies at many levels. Without Fire, no movement would be possible, whether at the micro (subatomic) or macro (cosmic) level.
    • Air – movement and mobility. Unlike Water, which flows on the earth, Air expands freely in three-dimensional space. It can be gentle or fierce, as seen in typhoon storms.
    • Ether – space, extension, expansion, and spaciousness. Space holds everything; without it, the other Elements could not exist.

    The Elements in Āsana Practice

    • Earth provides grounding and stability. It corresponds to the skeleton—the bones are the body’s most solid part and give it shape. In practice, bones (and skin) are more important than muscles. Earth-oriented work involves strengthening the bones by placing load on them and drawing the muscles toward the bones, which nourishes them and stimulates bone-cell growth.

    While much attention is given to building muscle mass, without bone density, the muscles cannot function effectively. In everyday life, most people load only the leg bones (through walking), while rarely placing weight on the arms, spine, or head. Many āsanas load these areas, helping to maintain the strength of the entire skeleton.

    • Water corresponds to the body’s soft tissues and internal organs. In practice, we must preserve the softness and suppleness of these “watery” aspects of the body.
    • Fire symbolizes purification, assimilation, and transformation. Positioned at the center of the Elements, Fire (Tejas) connects the denser elements (Earth and Water) with the subtler ones (Air and Ether). As Iyengar explains:

    “If you take the five elements of nature—Prithvi, Ap, Tej, Vayu, and Akasha—Tejas is in the middle of all elements. As Tejas is connected to the mind (Manomaya kośa), it connects the first two gross elements, Prithvi (physical body) and Ap (vital body), with the later subtle elements Vayu (intellectual body) and Akasha (the space, i.e., the core).” (AYM, Vol. VIII, p. 20)

    Fire (Agni) is purifying. In India, every sacrifice involves fire; offerings are cast into it to be transformed. In yoga, the sacrifice is internal: our efforts and willpower (tapas).

    There are five levels of purification through Fire:

    • Jathara Agni – Annamaya kośa, the digestive fire.
    • Prāṇa Agni – Prāṇamaya kośa, the chest; assimilating breath.
    • Mānasa Agni – Manomaya kośa, digesting sensory inputs.
    • Bodhika Agni – Vijñānamaya kośa, burning away ignorance (avidyā) and assimilating wisdom.
    • Ānanda Agni – Ānandamaya kośa, the fire of love and light, transforming desire into the longing for self-realization.

    Air represents 3-dimensional movement. The chest is the region of Air in our body. Movement of air in the form of breathing is an essential component of the performance of āsanas.

    Ether (Ākāśa) in practice is the creation of space—both physically and mentally. Extending the limbs enlarges the body’s cavities. Mentally, a relaxed and quiet mind opens spaciousness. Freed from constant thought and worry, the mind becomes clear, creative, and expansive, like a vast open sky.


    Summary: Elements in Āsana Practice

    1. Earth – Grounding, compactness, skeletal strength.
    2. Water – Softness of organs, relaxation of the senses.
    3. Fire – Heat, purification, dynamic movement.
    4. Air – Chest opening, breathing.
    5. Space – Relaxation, concentration, mental clarity.

    Mental Characteristics of the Elements

    • Earth – determination, firmness, persistence.
    • Water – adaptability, flexibility, receptivity.
    • Fire – intensity, sharpness, forcefulness.
    • Air – mental agility, openness to changing perspectives.
    • Space – tranquility, equanimity, creativity, expansiveness.

    When Unbalanced:

    • Earth – stubbornness, heaviness, inertia (tamas).
    • Water – instability, being easily influenced.
    • Fire – restlessness, agitation, excess rajas.
    • Air – inconsistency, lack of focus, scattering.
    • Space – lack of grounding, detachment from reality.

    The Five Elements and the Kośas

    The Elements also correspond to the five sheaths (kośas) that constitute human embodiment (see Light on the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali, p. 45):

    Kośa (Sheath)SanskritElement
    AnatomicalPrithviEarth
    Energy/VitalApWater
    MentalTejasFire
    IntellectualVayuAir
    BlissĀkāśaSpace

    Iyengar elaborates on this in AYM, explaining how the subtle Elements correspond to the gross Elements and how they inform practice:

    “Performance of asana can also be studied and understood in terms of the five elements—earth, water, fire, air and ether—and their counterparts, namely odour, taste, shape, touch and sound (as vibration), to gain rich insight into the structure and functions of each asana.

    Earth and odour represent the anatomical sheath; water and taste represent the physiological sheath, giving organic health. Fire and shape characterize mental health by burning out toxins and bringing coolness and poise to the mind. Air and touch help the intelligence to discriminate and diffuse the effects of asana throughout the body, mind, and self. This contact enlivens the ātman to expand or contract in the ethereal sheath, listening to the body’s language in the vibration of sound.

    Each practitioner has to feel these five elements with their dynamic qualities working in unison in each asana or each flow of energy in pranayama. Then the asana is perfect, comfortable, and stable according to Patañjali. Till then, it is not perfection but the process leading towards it.

    In the final stage of perfection, the ego or ‘I’-consciousness has to become humble and drop down like a ripe, juicy fruit falling from the tree…” (Vol. II, p. 210)


    Conquering the Elements

    In Yoga Sūtra III.45, Patañjali describes mastery over the Elements (bhūta-jaya):

    sthūla svarūpa sūkṣma anvaya arthavattva samyamād bhūta-jayah

    By samyama on the elements—their gross and subtle nature, their conjunction, and their purposes—the yogi becomes master over them all.


    References

    • LOYSP – Light on the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali, B.K.S. Iyengar
    • AYM – Astadala Yoga Mala, Vol. I–VIII, B.K.S. Iyengar

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