Introduction to Ahimsa

Or: what non-violence really means

The podcast version of this episode can be found here, or on your favourite podcast app.

Welcome, beautiful readers, to the first of our yama reflections for this year, beginning with ahimsa - non-violence.

As we know from our consideration of yoga history and Patañjali, the Yoga Sutras set out an eight-limbed path of yoga. These are:

• Yama (restraints)

• Niyama (observances)

• Asana (physical postures)

• Pranayama (breathing techniques)

• Pratyahara (sense withdrawal)

• Dharana (concentration)

• Dhyana (absorption or meditation)

• Samadhi (enlightenment or bliss).

As humans, we often look at a list like this and see a path - a list of steps we must move through in order to reach the end. The temptation is to spend all our time mastering one step before moving onto the others, or perhaps the inverse - racing through the initial steps to reach the last and deem ourselves masters, or complete.

However, they’re described as limbs because taken all together they form a tree with limbs and branches - each an important part of the whole.

Whilst consistent and persistent work on the first four limbs of tree can help us find ease in the last four, there is no one limb we should spend more time on than others.

In fact, each is a tool to assist with another. The yamas help us with asana. Pranayama helps us with dharana. Asana helps us with dhyana.

However, the yamas and niyamas - restraints & observances - are the philosophical principles of yoga, and we can be greatly assisted with a foundational understanding here.

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Asana

Note here how asana is not first or even second on this list.

If you look at any form of media on yoga today - social media, yoga blogs or magazines - you’d be forgiven for believing that asana is the be all and end all of yoga, and everything else is to support it.

Yoga has been colonised by western cultures as a ‘fitness’ practice, with the ‘benefits’ of mindfulness thrown in as an added incentive.

The truth is, asana is simply a tool designed to assist us achieve the purpose of yoga - union. With ourselves, with our world, with the universe/divine/source/god - whatever you call it.

It’s not the most important tool, nor the least important. Doing a lot of asana, or being able to do advanced poses doesn’t make us better or worse at yoga than someone whose practice is much more simple.

Personally, I believe that asana is the practice ground for the yamas and niyamas. It’s where we can begin to notice the ways we avoid certain restraints, or lean into certain observances. It’s where we make the connection that the way we treat ourselves on the mat is how we treat ourselves in life and wonder: is this yoga?

The Yamas

In February, March, April, May & June we’ll be exploring the Yamas - the first limb of Patañjali’s 8 limbs, which is comprised of:

• Ahimsa (non-harming or non-violence in thought, word and deed)

• Satya (honesty)

• Asteya (non-stealing)

• Brahmacharya (right use of energy)

• Aparigraha (non-greed or non-hoarding)

You can see from this list why the Yamas are known as restrains - each refers to not doing something, rather than doing something in a positive sense. Ahimsa - not enacting violence. Satya - not lying. Asteya - refraining from taking what is not ours. Brahmacharya - not using our energy in a way that is wasteful. Aparigraha - not taking more than we need.

They’re a wonderful place to start because it’s easier to notice ourselves doing something and then refraining from it than it is to notice ourselves not doing something and start doing it.

This latter is the work of the Niyamas, but don’t worry, the Yamas will help us get there.

Ahimsa

For me, ahimsa - the first of yoga’s ethical principles - was the beginning of my love affair with yoga.

Ahimsa asks us to do no harm, and we do this by beginning with ourselves. In asana, for example, this means not pushing ourselves into poses or positions that cause pain, injury or harm.

What’s that? A teaching about something physical that wasn’t ‘no pain no gain’ or ‘if it’s not hurting it’s not working’?

A teaching that taught me to be gentle with myself first and then move to the edge?

Unfathomable.

As a person who has lived in a fat body my entire life, it was like my whole being - mind, body and spirit breathed a sigh of relief when I took in this teaching.

Finally, a movement practice (because in the early days, that’s what it was for me), that didn’t require me to want a different body than I had in order to participate.

In all the rest of my life, there was always this sense that my acceptance into a fitness space was dependent on the idea that I was there to get ‘better’. To lose weight, to look different.

Yoga doesn’t ask for that.

Patañjali’s Yoga Sutras start with Atha yoganusasanam - my favourite translation of which is ‘now the yoga begins’.

Now the yoga begins.

Not when there’s a certain number on the scales. Not when you look a certain way. Not when you are more flexible, or less stressed or …

Now. Right now. Just as you are.

Ahimsa means treating ourselves with compassion - practicing asana with the body we have right now without trying to change it. Without trying to force ourselves into poses our bodies simply aren’t capable of - and without judging ourselves for that - which is a kind of violence too.

It’s not just for those of us with non-traditional yoga bodies either. We live in a society that idolises ‘the push’ - you know, the idea if you’re not doing everything to the very edge of your capacity, you’re ‘not really doing it’.

I know many, many yoga practitioners in what would be considered traditionally ‘yoga’ bodies who have realised that pushing themselves is a form of violence - not because pushing ourselves to the edge is inherently violent, but because doing it when our bodies (or minds, or spirits) are asking for less, is.

It’s more than just physical violence, it’s the violence of betraying ourselves, of what we know to be true.

When we are crying out for rest and we push ourselves through a power flow because we ‘should’ - that’s a form of violence.

When our shoulder or knee or lower back is just a little twingy but we push ourselves through a long held pose because we ‘should’ - that’s a form of violence.

When we’re booked for three classes a week and we go to every one of them because we ‘should’, even though we know an evening with our loved ones would be a greater contribution - that’s a form of violence.

A commitment to non-violence is a commitment to listening to the quiet whisper of our inner voice, asking us to be soft when the world around us asks us to be hard. To be gentle when we’re asked to be harsh. To be tender when we’re asked to be strong.

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So this week, your invitation is to lean into ahimsa. To notice where you are ignoring the quiet whisper of your inner voice asking you to go gently. To consciously lean away from ‘the push’ and notice what it feels like to simply be.

Try this on the mat - what does it feel like to do a 30 minute practice instead of an hour long one? What does it feel like to do a whole practice with no standing poses? What does it feel like to do a restorative practice rather than a vinyasa? What comes up for you?

Try it off the mat - what does it feel like to rest instead of doing ‘just one more’ thing? What does it feel like to accept where you are at instead of judging yourself for where you ‘should’ be? What does it feel like to feel your feelings instead of pushing them down, or away?

Until next week, with ever more love,