Sometimes, when people hear the word “yoga,” their minds jump to pictures of very flexible people twisted into complicated shapes. And if that’s your picture, you might think, “Oh, that’s not for me. I can’t even touch my toes!” I hear this quite often, and I always smile a little, because for me, yoga is so much more than just how far you can bend or stretch. It’s a much quieter, deeper, and more personal story that unfolds inside you.
I like to think of yoga as a way of becoming friends with yourself, a gentle exploration of who you are in this very moment. It’s less about achieving a perfect pose and more about discovering how your body wants to move, how your breath can bring a little calm, and how your mind can find a bit of quiet space amidst the everyday hustle. It’s about that “innocent curiosity” I often talk about – just wondering, “Hmm, what happens if I try this? How does this feel for me?”
In my own journey, yoga wasn’t about instantly becoming a pretzel. It was a slow unfolding, a learning to listen. There were days I felt stiff and awkward, and days I felt surprisingly open. What I discovered was that the real magic wasn’t in forcing my body into a shape, but in paying attention to the journey to the shape, and even more so, to what was happening inside me while I was there. Was I holding my breath? Was my mind racing? Could I soften somewhere? These little questions became my guides.
So, what if yoga isn’t about being “good” at it? What if it’s simply about showing up for yourself, just as you are? In my classes, that’s the invitation. We use the movements and the breath as tools, like keys, to gently unlock different rooms within ourselves. Sometimes we find a room filled with quiet, sometimes a room with a bit of stored-up tension that’s ready to be released, and sometimes we find a surprising sense of strength or ease we didn’t know we had.
The word “yoga” itself comes from an ancient word meaning “to yoke” or “to unite.” And that’s what we’re exploring – how to bring things together. How to connect our breath with our movement, so they flow like a gentle dance. How to connect our mind with our body, so they’re not pulling in different directions. How to connect with that quiet, steady part of ourselves that’s always there, even when life feels a bit stormy.
Imagine your body is like a landscape, with its own hills, valleys, rivers, and quiet forests. Some days, parts of that landscape might feel a bit dry or rocky. Other days, things might feel lush and flowing. Yoga is like taking a gentle walk through that landscape, noticing what’s there without judgment. Maybe you pause by a river (your breath) and just watch it flow. Maybe you gently explore a path up a small hill (a simple stretch) and see what the view is like from there. There’s no right or wrong way to experience your own landscape.
One of the simplest yet most profound parts of yoga is the breath. It’s always with us, yet we often forget about it. Just taking a moment, right now, to notice your breath can be a tiny act of yoga. Is it shallow or deep? Fast or slow? Can you feel where it moves in your body? You don’t need to change it, just notice it. This simple act of noticing can be incredibly grounding. It brings you right here, into this moment. And in this moment, often, things feel a little bit simpler.
When we start to listen to our bodies and our breath in this way, something interesting happens. We begin to build a different kind_of relationship with ourselves – one that’s based on kindness and curiosity, rather than criticism or expectation. And this can ripple out into our daily lives. Maybe we become a little more patient with ourselves when we make a mistake. Maybe we notice when we’re feeling stressed and remember to take a few conscious breaths. Maybe we find a little more ease in our movements, whether we’re walking, sitting at a desk, or playing with our children.
So, if you’ve ever felt that yoga wasn’t for you because you weren’t “flexible enough” or “calm enough,” I invite you to reconsider. Yoga isn’t about reaching some external ideal. It’s about discovering your own inner landscape, listening to your own unique story, and finding your own way to feel a little more whole, a little more at peace, a little more you. And that’s a journey worth exploring, one gentle breath at a time.
With warmth,
Inge
