A Path Towards Freedom, Steadiness and a Deeper Way of Living

Many, many years ago, when I was doubting my practice and doubting yoga as a method, a wise man (who is now my teacher) said to me “You have aspirations.”

I didn’t really know what that meant at the time but I nodded. Something in my body pointed to “Yes, I have aspirations.” At the time, I thought it was more akin to having goals, but I was wrong. It was deeper than that.

This would become a pivotal moment in my life and the start of one of my most precious relationships with my teacher, Mark Togni - an ordained Buddhist Monk and Ashtanga yoga teacher.

I would come to realise that aspirations were not goals. More of a longing. A yearning. Something I was actually reaching for underneath all the doing. This man saw me. He saw something in me that I hadn’t quite figured out about myself.

For me, something I longed for was freedom. I went looking for it everywhere - extensive solo travel, recreational drugs, then plant medicine, specific shamans, ayahuasca, peyote, mescaline. All chasing the same thing. Something deeper and more meaningful. 

I had practised yoga before - the physical kind that has become synonymous with modern yoga: movement, stretching and exercise. As I started to dive into the deeper teachings of yoga - the philosophy of yoga, I started to recognise something that pointed to what I dreamt of - peace, steadiness and ultimately, liberation. Freedom.

Do I have those things now?

Yes.

Not because I've become some perfectly zen, unshakeable person - I haven't. I'm still human, still reactive and dramatic on a challenging day. But underneath that, there's a steadiness now. A thread running through my nervous system that wasn't there before. I have more choice in how I respond to things, and wow, is that ever a gift.

That steadiness didn't come from nowhere. It came from practice. Specifically, from five practices Patanjali laid out thousands of years ago, called the Yamas. They're not a moral checklist, or a list of rules to tick off that ever growing list of things to do. They are simple and profound invitations to discover what it means to be truly human. They are ways of moving through the world that bring you closer to peace, no matter what's going on around you.

There are five Yamas. Five practices. Five different perspectives. Here they are.

Ahimsa : non-harming

Usually translated as non-violence. Really, it's gentleness. Its reducing harm as much as possible.

At its heart, ahimsa asks us to become aware of how harm happens - intentionally and unintentionally. In our relationship with ourselves, other people and the world around us.

Let's get clear about something. Ahimsa isn't the same as being nice. It doesn't mean avoiding conflict, always being agreeable or putting everyone else's needs before our own. Sometimes not speaking up can create harm. Sometimes setting a boundary is the most compassionate thing we can do. Sometimes telling someone a difficult truth is less harmful than continuing to avoid it. Ahimsa is the practice of relating to life with as little unnecessary harm as possible.

Some things to reflect upon:

• How do I speak to myself?

The voice in our own head can be surprisingly harsh. We might never speak to another person the way we speak to ourselves. Ahimsa invites us to notice that.

• How do I treat other people?

Non-harming isn't simply about physical violence. It can include our words, our assumptions, our criticism, our judgments, or the ways we try to control or diminish another person.

• How do I treat myself?

How do you move on your yoga mat? Forcing, judging or overriding our body - is that really yoga asana through the lens of ahimsa?

• How do I respond when things don't go my way?

Ahimsa doesn't mean never experiencing anger, frustration or conflict. It's about becoming more conscious of what we do with those experiences and how we channel them.

Ahimsa is the heart of yoga.

Satya: truthfulness

Satya isn't just about not lying. We can be dishonest in much subtler ways.

We might:

• say we're fine when we're not
• agree to something we don't actually want
• pretend to know something we don't
• hide our needs because we're afraid of disappointing someone
• tell ourselves a story about who we should be rather than acknowledging who we actually are
• avoid a difficult conversation because the truth feels uncomfortable

Satya invites us to notice these moments.
It's asking us to reflect - “Can I be honest about what is actually happening - within myself, with other people, and in the way I move through the world?

Satya and ahimsa work together. Satya is not satya if it doesn't embody ahimsa. 

What if telling the truth causes harm?

Truth without care can become cruelty.

Care without truth can become avoidance.

So satya isn't about using “honesty” as permission to say whatever we think. Instead, we might ask ourselves:

• Is it true?
• Does it need to be said?
• Can I say it without unnecessary harm?

This is particularly relevant in relationships. For example, “I’m just being honest” can sometimes be a way of disguising criticism, anger or judgement. Satya asks us to look more closely at the intention behind our words.

Satya also involves being truthful with ourselves This is perhaps where it becomes most powerful as a yoga practice.

Can I acknowledge:

• I'm tired.
• I'm angry.
• I'm jealous.
• I don't know.
• I actually don't want to do this.
• I need help.
• This relationship isn't working for me.
• I'm scared.

Rather than immediately trying to change, suppress or explain away what we're experiencing, satya asks us to start by telling the truth about what is here. Its actually less about morality and more about awareness. Satya is the practice of meeting reality honestly - while holding that truth with care.

Asteya: non-stealing

At first, it sounds straightforward: don’t take what isn’t yours. But Patanjali’s idea can be explored much more broadly. At its heart, asteya asks: Can I recognise what is mine to take, and what is not?
And that isn't only about material possessions. What else can we steal?

• Stealing someone's time - pushing for their attention when it suits you, not them.
• Stealing someone's energy - pulling someone into a conversation while you're dysregulated, so what comes out is messy and demands more of them than is necessary.
• Stealing through spite - hurting someone because they hurt you.
• Stealing ideas - taking credit for someone else's thinking.

And sometimes we steal from ourselves.

• We might steal our own rest by constantly pushing through exhaustion.
• We might steal our own attention by endlessly scrolling, worrying or thinking about the future.
• We might steal the present moment by being somewhere physically while our mind is somewhere else.

Asteya is the practice of not taking what isn't freely ours - and becoming aware of the ways we might take more than we need.

We can get curious about where in our life we may be taking time, energy, attention or resources without really noticing? That makes asteya less like a moral rule and more like an invitation to develop awareness, reciprocity and a sense of enoughness.

Underneath all of it is the same root: scarcity. A feeling of not-enough that makes us reach for something that isn't ours to take - whether that's someone's time, their ideas, or just our own attention poured into mindless scrolling and consuming. Asteya asks us to notice that scarcity story.

Brahmacharya: energy moderation

Traditionally, brahmacharya was closely associated with celibacy and sexual restraint. In the classical yoga tradition, particularly within the context of a renunciant or monastic life, conserving sexual energy was understood as part of directing one's energy towards spiritual practice and liberation.

That instruction doesn't really work once yoga leaves the monastery and lands in the life of someone with a partner, kids, and a mortgage. So the teaching evolved. It opened out into a bigger question: what are you doing with your energy? Not just sexual energy - your attention, your focus, your life-force. Rather than prescribing celibacy, we can understand brahmacharya as an invitation to become conscious of how we direct our energy - including our sexual energy, attention, time and desire.

Brahmacharya is really about noticing where you're urge-driven instead of choosing. Caffeine. Alcohol. Sugar. Picking up your phone. Gossip. That extra drink where some part of you already knows, before you've finished it, that you didn't need it.

Some things to reflect on:

• Where in my day am I reacting to an urge rather than making a choice?
• What am I reaching for when I'm tired, bored or uncomfortable?
• Is my energy going toward what actually matters to me?

It's about noticing the difference between energy spent and energy wasted - and having enough left over for what you actually care about. Brahmacharya is the practice of directing your energy with awareness, rather than wasting it on autopilot.

Aparigraha: non-grasping

Aparigraha asks us to look at our relationship with attachment, what we're holding onto, and whether holding on is actually helping us. It relates to much more than material things.

We can cling to:

• possessions
• relationships
• roles and identities
• beliefs and opinions
• expectations about the future
• stories about the past
• ideas about who we should be

One of the deepest insights behind this yama is the recognition that everything changes.
Bodies change. Relationships change. Careers change. Children grow up. Health changes. Circumstances change.

Everything changes.

Much of our suffering comes not from change itself, but from trying to stop change from happening.

Aparigraha gently asks: What if I could meet change with a little less gripping?

It is the practice of loosening our grip on the things we try to possess or control, and learning to appreciate them without needing to hold on so tightly.

The whole point

The yamas aren't really a set of rules for how we should behave. They're invitations to become more aware - of ourselves, of other people, and of the ways we move through the world.

And like so much of yoga philosophy, they aren't necessarily something we understand all at once. They’re ideas we can return to, question, and notice playing out in our own lives.

If you'd like to explore these ideas more deeply, you can listen to the audio recordings from our philosophy sessions in our Online Classes Portal. We spend time unpacking these teachings and exploring what they actually look like when we take them into everyday life.

You can find the recordings here.