A Closer Look at the Niyamas
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A month or so ago, I did a more in depth post on the Yamas, the first of the Eight Limbs of Yoga, and I promised to dive into more of the limbs soon. In this post, I want to focus on the Niyamas, and how they can apply in our daily lives. While the Yamas refer to how we interact with others and the world around us, the Niyamas are about our practices with ourselves.
As with most things, there may be multiple ways to interpret the Niyamas, especially as we try to bring them into 21st century daily life while honoring the roots and meaning, so this is my interpretation based on the training I’ve had and the readings I’ve done since. As I continue to learn and study these concepts, as well as try to incorporate them into my life as yoga off the mat (i.e. yoga as a way of life) my perspective shifts and evolves, and it may continue to do so. This is where I am with them as I understand them now.
Sauca
Sauca generally translates to “purification” or cleanliness. Traditionally, there were cleansing practices to perform before asana - from my understanding, as a way of preparing the mind, body, and spirit for the “next steps” so to speak, on the yoga path. When we studied this practice in yoga teacher training, we chose three practices from a list of maybe 8-10 (I’m estimating here) to choose. They included practices such as: neti pot, oil pulling, tongue scraping, dry brushing, drinking water with lemon (I’m obviously missing a few, here). We chose our three and practiced them daily for two weeks, ideally first thing in the morning, and examined how we felt (both on and off the mat) as we wove these into our daily routines.
This year, I’ve been relatively “forced” into a daily practice of sauca based on two health/medical scenarios. I’ve written previously about how I had to completely redo my ‘beauty’ (skin care, etc) and shower regimen due to a mysterious allergy rash that popped up suddenly. Basically, I had to simplify all of my soaps, lotions, eliminate makeup for a time, to treat this. It forced me to really examine what I was putting on my body, and to simplify, or purify if you will - nothing extraneous, nothing with scents or oils or fragrances or complicated ingredients, no unnecessary products. The reaction seems to be gone, but I’ve stuck, for the most part, to this minimalist regiment. Ironically, using less feels more clean to me, and I’m liking the effect it has on me overall. More recently, I was diagnosed with Chronic Interstitial Cystitis, a bladder/pelvic floor nerve condition, and I’m having to adjust my diet (diet as in what I eat, not as in weight loss). I have to “eat my water”, meaning to get much more of my hydration through vegetables and fruits instead of just trying to drink the standard eight glasses of water. And because my GI disorder can impact the new condition, it’s making me concentrate more on how I eat generally, which I honestly should have been doing already but have slacked off a bit. I’ve had to get back to basics with what I’m putting into my body, too. I’m eating a lot more basic fruits and veggies. I’m working to get back to fewer processed and pre-packaged foods, because I don’t know how what’s in them is affecting my illnesses (and because it’s healthier in general). Basically, part of my treatment plan is to eat more cleanly. Neither of these may be the traditional version of sauca, but they are ways in which I’m forced into “purifying”, for lack of a better word, what I put in and on my body.
In the days of work and yoga (practice and teaching), this could mean creating a “clean” space where you’re best able to get into your practice, or teach, or even work, if we’re talking about bringing the practice into everyday life. By clean, I don’t mean spotless - I mean a place that allows you to, as best as possible, focus in on whatever you’re using the space for in that moment (I also acknowledge this might not be possible given each person’s individual circumstances and being able to do so is a privilege).
Santosha
Santosha is generally translated as contentment. For me, this Niyama falls strongly in the “easier said than done” category. In fact, I think of all the Niyamas, it’s the trickiest, especially in our 21st century world of instant gratification, messages to always push yourself harder, 100 different places you can look online and compare yourself and you life to what others are posting (which probably isn’t their real life). The constant inundation of to “do more and be better” can make feeling content difficult. For me, santosha can be closely linked to another yoga concept, Vairagya, or letting go - letting go to the outcomes of our actions, letting go of external opinions or validation, letting go of the (often harmful) thoughts about ourselves that we internalize from those external opinions, letting go of the “shoulds”.
Santosha doesn’t mean giving up, or not striving to be our best versions of ourselves. It doesn’t mean we don’t try to learn and grow and develop, and it certainly doesn’t mean that we settle for being treated badly, by others or systems/organizations or even by ourselves. It’s not an “I guess this is as good as it gets” type of approach. Nor, on the other end of the spectrum, is it spiritual bypassing or toxic positivity. To me, the simplest way to think of Santosha is the elimination of the “I’ll be happy when….” (I have xyz relationship, I have a better job, I have more money, I get that promotion, fill in the blank).
*Important note: I’d like to pause to clarify something here. When I say releasing the “I’ll be happy when”, I’m talking about happiness within ourselves, of who we are. Internal contentment - i.e. not basing my view of my own worthiness as a human on my relationship status, job title, bank account, etc. I’m NOT referring to happiness/contentment with external circumstances as it relates to fundamental human rights and/or safety. I don’t expect someone to be content with oppressive and unjust systems. I don’t expect someone to be content in an abusive relationship. I don’t expect someone to be content with unsafe living conditions. To name a few. I think this is a super important distinction, because without it, it’s easy to fall into the “Your life is what you make it. Just look at the positive” toxic positivity/spiritual bypassing that denies people’s pain and suffering, and that is the furthest thing from what Yoga, true yoga, is about.
Tapas
Discipline or practice. Of all the Niyamas, Tapas to me is the one that’s the most tangible, both on and off the mat. To be clear, if discipline makes you think of detention in school or being grounded or some other punishment, that’s not at all what this is referring to. In the Niyamas, discipline means more like dedication or a consistent practice. On the mat (or cushion), this could be setting aside a set time each day that you do some asana, meditation, or breathwork. It doesn’t have to be intense to be “discipline”. For instance, I do five to ten minutes of meditation every morning before work, but I set aside the time and do it daily. Or it may be a few poses to help you wind down from the work day, or get ready for bed.
Off the mat, there are too many examples to list. It could be setting aside time to consistently study or focus on any of the other Eight Limbs of yoga. Or maybe you have a journaling or self-reflection practice. Maybe it’s a creative exercise that helps you connect with your inner self. Maybe it’s a practice pausing to redirect thoughts or come back to your breath when in situations where you tend to feel anxious or distracted. There are numerous ways in which we can engage with tapas. Find one or several that resonate with you, that help you to feel connected to yourself, and set time to consistently engage with the practice(s).
Svadhyaya
Svadyaya, as I learned it, is self-study through ancient texts. In yoga, this could include texts such as the Bhagavad Gita, the Yoga Sutras, the Hatha Yoga Pradipika. It’s not just reading the texts, but understanding them as they apply to ourselves - the lessons that they’re aiming to teach us and how they can be applied to our lives, both overall, and in the day to day.
I also think that there are ways in which we can apply Svadyaya in the day to day that don’t have to directly involve reading ancient texts. We’re seeing a key example of this with the increased focus on anti-racism work (by white people - Black people and BIPOC have been focused on these) and, in the yoga realm in particular, understanding cultural appropriation and where we might be contributing to it. For me, there’s been a ton of self-study in the past few months in both areas, understanding where I play a role even if I hadn’t realized it, and learning how I can do better, both as a human in general, and as a yoga and wellness teacher and practitioner. While it might not all involve study of self through ancient texts (though the yoga work certainly does much of the time), it does involve self study and a deeper dive into who we are, so that we can then do the internal work. It involves learning from those who have first hand knowledge and experience of how to do the work, of the roots of the issues, who can help us see through a perspective that’s not solely our own, and in that, I feel there’s a parallel to the traditional meaning of svadhyaya. And of course, in understanding cultural appropriation and white washing of yoga, the study of ancient texts, of truly learning the roots and history and philosophies of yoga, is integral.
Isvara Pranidhana
I’ve seen numerous translations of this Niyama. It’s generally summed up as “surrender to a higher being”. I’ve heard it as “your version of God”. In yoga teacher training, we described it as “your own personal Jesus”, not because we were being religious about it or trying to take away from the importance of the concept or its roots in any way, but because the well-known reference served as an entry point to conceptualizing this Niyama, which can be difficult to grasp. Isvara Pranidhana is your way of connecting with something bigger than your “small s self”. Some people may experience this feeling when they’re out in nature or when you’re standing out looking at the night sky, into a universe that’s so much bigger than our individual existence. Others may experience it with music or song or dance. Some may experience it in prayer or other practices based in their faith. There are plenty of other examples that I’m not thinking of at the moment (and if you have one, I’d love to hear about it if you’re comfortable sharing!). Isvara Pranidhana is not religious. It’s not tied to any one concept of God or any one faith. It’s beyond that. In fact, it acknowledges that we may all come to this surrender in our own way.
And while I’m here, the word surrender. It’s not a giving up. It’s not weakening. I see it as more of an Allowing. For instance, when I’m alone in nature, either hiking through the forest or perhaps standing watching the ocean roll in, I allow my focus on my little s self to fade, even if just for a moment, and let myself be part of something bigger. Something that has nothing to do with my physical self, my individual characteristics as a being in this body. I allow myself to feel the connection to something that I can’t quite quantify or determine with the five senses. It’s allowing yourself to become part of the music or the song or the dance or the prayer or the ritual or however it is that you connect. That’s the surrender.
This is a lot, I know, especially for those that haven’t studied them before. As with everything else in yoga (and life), you don’t need to have a perfect understanding or be able to fully jump into each and every one of these. But they have an important place in the path of yoga, and as I delve further into understanding and sharing and living that path, I wanted to introduce them to you as best I can. I’m still studying and growing my understanding as these concepts, so I may have more to say on them down the road. For now, I'm happy to answer any questions on them as best I can, and I’d love to hear your own thoughts and understanding of these Niyamas.