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?
   

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.
  

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.

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):

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