The first step in the process of mindful awareness is radical self-acceptance. —Stephen Batchelor
Gates invites us to explore the “necessary restraints” of yoga—a phrase that might initially sound surprising. I remember my own reaction when I first read those words back in 2012. Does “restraint” align with how we typically envision yoga? Probably not. And yet, over the years, I’ve come to appreciate what it truly means in practice. If it doesn’t resonate with you at first, I understand.
Gates notes, “Buddhist teachings remind us that what we resist persists,” which I find profoundly true. His reflections emphasize the importance of noticing, and then observing our reactions to what we notice. If we’re open and ready, our practice can reveal what needs to be healed, held, or released within us. This process is about the consistent practice of noticing. Gates writes that we are often raised in ways where “our early efforts to examine our fear, pride, lust, ambition, avarice, perfectionism, or whatever else, are often sabotaged by our reaction to being human.”
This brings me back to those “necessary restraints.” From my years of practice, I’ve learned that yoga provides the guardrails that ensure safety and security as we navigate our inner landscape. It helps us move between facing the most difficult aspects of ourselves and celebrating moments of self-compassion. These guardrails keep us from veering too far off the road, ensuring we don’t spiral out of control and fall over a cliff, but stay on a path where growth and self-awareness can happen.
Yoga teaches us to try things on for size—not just physically but mentally and spiritually. It allows us to choose what works and let go of what doesn’t. We confront the reality of how harsh or critical we can be, and also the joy of how loving and accepting we are capable of being. When we begin to practice, really practice all that yoga reveals, ourf emotional and energetic pendulum swings widely at first, making us question if we will ever find balance.
In the early days of yoga, I felt like I was riding closely to the guardrails of the extremes. Over time, by understanding the layers of the Eight Limb path, I learned to acknowledge the pendulum’s motion is all part of the learning. Then the next part is coming back to center more effortlessly, without force or judgment.
A saying I often use in my classes, something I learned from a teacher, is: “What you like the least, you need the most.” This holds true both on and off the mat. For example, I now love broccoli, but as a child, I detested it. The same applied to my early experiences with yoga—particularly pyramid pose. As a former dancer, I found open-hip poses way more comfortable. Admittedly, way easier for me. But pyramid pose was a different story. I battled it for years, resisting the emotions, self-judgment, and frustration it triggered. Sometimes I even found myself blaming the teacher for my discomfort, feeling like he or she was purposely punishing me. It’s silly, but true. Our egoic minds play necessary tricks on our human bodies on and off our mats. That’s also part of the practice. Let’s be honest, it’s human nature to project our struggles onto external sources, even the teachers we respect. I say this with love for my own teachers, understanding clearly that as an instructor myself, the sequences I plan are intentional and are designed to guide students toward what they may need to face, hold, or release.
But I’ve seen students struggle in similar ways I did initially and sometimes still do. At times, they admit it during or after a class and at other times I pick up on subtle cues. I see their shoulders tense, their jaws tighten, I hear the tone of exasperation in their exhales. In those moments, I gently remind them that what we resist most often holds the greatest lesson. I often share my own journey to help them feel understood and connected to the universal truths that we all have faced in our practice: we are human!
Yoga is challenging. Sometimes, it’s hard as fuck. It takes us to the extremes of breaking us down and rebuilding us from the inside out. Its gift is in how it teaches us to notice our reactions and untangle the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves or others. And just when we feel lost, dangerously close to staying down a rabbit hole, yoga offers us a flashlight and a rope to pull ourselves up, sometimes launching us into moments of pure clarity and joy. Gates writes, “We do not have to succumb to the tyranny of our own self-judgment. We can observe our reactions with awareness and let them go.”
The Yamas, Niyamas, and other guiding principles in yoga are essential to observing and releasing what no longer serves us. They help create a safe space where we can let go of fear and trust in the process. They remind us that we are meant to appreciate the gifts of our bodies, minds, and souls, even on days when we struggle with what we see and feel. Ultimately, they guide us back to operating from our center—our heart chakra, our source of love. Today, more than ever, it’s vital for us to come from that place as often as we can.
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