An Introduction to Yoga
When you mention the word ‘Yoga’ to most people they immediately think about people stretching and bending or breathing in certain ways. And whilst, that is part of yoga (the limb known as Asana), and how many people are introduced to the practice, it is just one part. But yoga is much more than postures, bending and breathing. It is more than what happens on the mat and for me, I actually consider it a way of life. It is a way of living that invites steadiness, kindness, self-awareness, and connection to the Self and others, all of which I have found have been immeasurably helpful in my recovery.
My introduction to yoga didn’t come through the practice off asana because I was injured and actively trying not to exercise at the point it came into my life. Instead, it was through mindfulness, meditation and then reading more about yoga philosophies and the chakra system that made me curious about how it could help in my recovery. Needless to say, that curiosity has led me to where I am today. Yes, the physical practice is part of my daily routine now (even if that means lying on my mat for 10 minutes) but it is just one of the 8 limbs of yoga that I try to incorporate into my recovered life.
The eight limbs of yoga offer a gentle framework towards living that calm, steady, connected life full of kindness and self-compassion that I already mentioned. These limbs are not a strict ladder that must be climbed perfectly (important for us perfectionists trying to recover to remember!) and are instead eight supportive guides, each one helping us return to ourselves with greater compassion. Together, they remind us that yoga is not about performing wellness. It is about creating a life that feels more honest, more peaceful, and more deeply rooted in care. And, as you’ll find out below, guides that can facilitate a deeper connection to recovery that you may never have thought possible.
What Are The 8 Limbs of Yoga?
Yama
Yama is often described as our ethical foundation: the way we relate to others and the world around us. It includes values such as non-harming, truthfulness, non-stealing, wise use of energy, and non-grasping. In everyday life, this might look like speaking more gently, being honest without being harsh, respecting other people’s time, or noticing when fear makes us cling too tightly. Yama is not about moral perfection. It is a practice of becoming a little more thoughtful, a little more tender, and a little more aligned with the kind of person we hope to be.
Niyama
If yama is about how we meet the world, niyama is about how we care for our inner life. These personal observances include cleanliness, contentment, disciplined effort, self-study, and surrender. Niyama encourages us to create small rituals that support wellbeing: keeping our space calm, appreciating what is already enough, showing up for practice even when we feel distracted, and looking honestly at our patterns without shame. It also reminds us that not everything can be controlled. Sometimes growth asks us to soften our grip and trust the process.
Asana
Asana refers to the physical postures of yoga, the limb most familiar in modern practice. Yet in the traditional sense, asana is not about achieving impressive shapes. It is about finding steadiness and ease in the body. Through movement, we learn to listen. We notice where we brace, where we push, where we hold our breath, and where we might soften. Asana can help build strength, mobility, and presence, but perhaps its deepest gift is relationship: a kinder, more attentive conversation with the body we live in every day.
Pranayama
Pranayama is the practice of working with the breath and, by extension, with life force or energy. Breath is one of the simplest and most powerful bridges between our body and mind. When we feel anxious, our breathing often becomes shallow or hurried. When we feel safe, it tends to soften and deepen. Pranayama invites us to become more intimate with that rhythm. Even a few slow, conscious breaths can create space inside a busy day. This limb teaches us that we do not always need to change everything at once; sometimes, we begin by simply breathing with awareness.
Pratyahara
Pratyahara is often translated as withdrawal of the senses, although that sounds more extreme than it really is. In practice, it is the art of turning inward. In a world full of noise, notifications, and constant demands for our attention, pratyahara offers a pause. It asks: what happens when we stop reaching outward for a moment and listen within? This might look like closing our eyes in rest, stepping away from screens, or sitting quietly long enough to notice what the heart has been trying to say. Pratyahara is not about escape. It is a loving return to our inner space.
Dharana
Dharana means concentration. It is the practice of placing the mind on one point and gently bringing it back when it wanders. We could do this using the breath, a mantra, a candle flame, or a simple sensation in the body. For many of us, this is humbling work. Our minds naturally wander; that is what minds do. Dharana teaches us that focus is not about force. It is about returning, again and again, without judgment. Each return is part of the practice. In that way, concentration becomes less about control and more about patience – much like the journey we take when we chose to recover from an eating disorder.
Dhyana
Dhyana means meditation: a state of sustained awareness in which attention flows more continuously and effortlessly. If dharana is the act of returning to an object of focus, dhyana is what begins to unfold when that returning becomes smooth and steady. It cannot be forced, and it does not always feel mystical. Often, it is subtle. A little more spaciousness. A little less reactivity. A sense of being present in a moment without needing it to be different. Dhyana invites us to rest in awareness rather than chase after it.
Samadhi
Samadhi is the final limb, often described as absorption, unity, or deep integration. It refers to moments when our sense of separation softens and we feel profoundly connected: to life, to presence, to something larger than the small, busy self. For me, this is when I feel completely connected to the universe and all it has to offer. Samadhi is not something to grasp at or perform. In fact, the more tightly we chase it, the further away it can seem. In fact, it is often spoken of as a natural flowering of practice rather than a prize to win. It reminds us that yoga, at its heart, is about union. Union with oneself, with others and the entire universe.
The beauty of the eight limbs is that they meet us exactly where we are. We do not need to master all of them, pronounce every Sanskrit word perfectly, or reshape our lives overnight. We can begin very simply; one honest breath, one kind choice, one quiet moment of attention. Over time, these small acts create a practice that reaches far beyond the mat. They help us move through the world with more balance, compassion, and clarity. The eight limbs of yoga are not a demand to become someone else. They are an invitation to come home to yourself, gently and wholeheartedly. For me, they were the key to realising that I was and am, so much more than just my physical body.