I
recently stumbled upon an article by a longtime casual yoga practitioner who
left the practice after becoming disillusioned with what she felt yoga had
become. She had decided
that yoga was not for her anymore, after evidently considering the
situation unredeemable. It was an interesting read and made me think of those
stuck with unfulfilled promises in the pursuit of an elusive wellness. I could relate
to her feelings of disillusionment.
I will admit that I know nothing
about yoga, not even a pose or mantra. As
I searched for articles about yoga, one titled “What Are the Benefits of Yoga?”
caught my attention. The article made several scientifically supported claims, but
I’m having a tough time with “safe and effective” science these days.
(Fortunately, there may not be trade secrets or other interests that some want
to protect in connection with yoga—I don’t know—but I welcome transparency on
that subject.)
The physical benefits make
it tempting to try yoga because I sense an increased urgency to remain in
control of my body after too much sitting over the past few years, which has affected
me in unexpected ways. I mean, I have been working in a sitting position most
of the time, and not exercising my legs enough. That hasn’t turned out so well.
I found myself battling a physical weakness I did not see coming. Thankfully,
the worst of it is behind me, and having a diagnosis has been empowering.
But yoga, regardless of why it is
pursued, is not separated from its spiritual aspects, and for that reason,
there may not be a path forward for yoga for those who consider it incompatible
with their beliefs. This isn’t a lesson on the spirituality of yoga; rather, I
aim to highlight how most reside in a state of spiritual bankruptcy, one that
cannot be cured through yoga. One may, through practicing yoga, receive a boost
in his or her sense of harmony with the metaphysical world surrounding our
experience as humans. Still, such boosts will always be
needed, which tells a compelling story of inefficacy and hard-to-grasp
unsafety to those who have ears to hear it.
Eleven years ago, I had an
uplifting encounter. It was not a boost toward any heightened sensation; on the
contrary, it was a massively humbling experience—nothing good for my
self-esteem. I realized who I was (this was not a “self-realization”) and my
perception of being a “good person” was challenged. Sin was the problem in my
life; it was even ruling over it. Sin is the
antithesis of all that is conducive to spiritual life, communion with God, and
harmony with his creation. I realized I needed to change course, which led to
my coming to the knowledge of the truth. I felt like a deflated balloon that
the world had stepped on in more ways than could be fathomed. I was also troubled to recognize how the choices I made
had led to my own destruction. It was in this position of contriteness that I experienced
a sense of clarity and honesty about the state I was in; this led to my finding
and eating the “bread of life,” which suddenly infused me with true spiritual
life. Having a pure heart became something I identified with due to a cleansing
I didn’t know I needed. My self-worth was also established in a non-egocentric
way. Jesus said to me, “Peace be upon you.” And I was filled, having henceforth
no intention of being deflated again.
Written by Giscard Nazon
1/19/2026, originally published 10/25/2023
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