Beyond the Physical: What Yoga has taught me about Compassion

If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.

~ Jack Kornfield

When I decided to do the Yoga Teacher Training 200hr program with The Mindful Yoga School, my aim was to be physically strong as well as flexible. I guess I wanted to prove that if someone who wasn’t very fit could do yoga, then surely others could too - and I could show them.

Hence, I was very focused on the physical challenge and imagined I'd be pushing my body during the training program.

What I didn’t realise was how deep we would end up delving into the workings of the Self - beyond just the physical body.

During our explorations of the Koshas (the five layers of the Self) and the Eight Limbs of Yoga, I came to learn so much about compassion - or at least my awareness grew to realise when I was or wasn’t being compassionate.

I was thirteen when I first heard of Ahimsa. I was watching the 1982 documentary Gandhi. I remember Mahatma Gandhi's determined, but peaceful resistance to oppression. He was adamant that India would overthrow British Rule in a non-violent way. This small, skinny, Indian man told thousands of followers to lay themselves on the ground while being thrown with rocks, and to not fight back. I saw that one could be disciplined and unwavering - without being violent.

Image: Pratik Chauhan

When I used to think of violence, I just thought of physical aggression. But now my awareness has expanded to notice all the other ways violence expresses itself - like as thoughts and emotional reactivity.

This awareness around how violence can play out has completely changed my practice. It has empowered me to become much gentler, and adaptable in my approach.

Coming into the training program, I thought I needed to force my body into a pose, and to keep pushing it until it did what I wanted it to do. I thought this was what mind over matter meant, and that this was how one achieved a perfect pose.

Now armed with a better understanding of Ahimsa - and myself, I no longer think it's ‘weak’ to use a cushion to sit on in sukasana (seated position) - if that's going to help my posture become more steady and easeful.

I no longer judge myself if I can’t bring my foot right up to the inside of my thigh in tree pose, like I thought I was 'supposed' to. Instead I enjoy focusing on creating stability and longevity in the pose - and present with my drishti (focused point of eye gaze) even if my foot is resting on the inside calve.

To discern the most skilful response to the needs of my body - on AND off the yoga mat, I am learning that what matters most is awareness and presence, so we can hear subtler messages.

Are my shoulders hunched?

Is my spine straight?

Am I leaning away or towards someone?

On the mat, I have learnt that approaching my practice with compassion, actually creates more space in the body, and gives the body permission to be.

Once, I asked a Sufi teacher: "How can I live my truth without feeling angry towards others for judging me or not accepting me?"  

She replied, “You don’t have to throw the truth like a brick at someone’s head”.

All these years later - and after journeying through the Yoga Teacher Training program - I can see again with renewed perception how important it is to be compassionate in the way I deal with others, and how it helps to keep the lines of communication open.

How important it is to continue looking through the lens of Ahimsa.

I am no longer as relentless on 'achieving' as I have been in the past. I've learnt that rigidity and stability are not synonymous, and that rigidity actually prevents adaptability and growth.

I am no longer studying spirituality as an 'academic' - seeking to achieve knowledge and wisdom. Instead, I now understand that the way forward will arrive when it is meant to - as long as I remain aware, present and receptive.

In my yoga practice I now notice not only when my body needs support, but also too my mind and spirit. I have learnt to ask for help and now longer see this as a sign of weakness - only a passing moment of vulnerability offering an opportunity for connection. 

This article was written by Yoga Teacher Training 200hr program graduate Faieza Burke, 2022.