Modern-day yoga is known for its physical poses, but the poses are just one step on what the ancient yogis believed was a path to enlightenment. The Eight-Limbed Path—outlined by prolific sage Patanjali (born between 300 BCE–AD 200) in his collection of writings called The Yoga Sutra—is a system of moral and ethical guidelines, and specific practices including yoga poses that lead the yogi to a peaceful life. Thousands of years after the Eight Limbs were first recorded, many yoga schools still use them as the foundation of their practice, while individual yogis find that they apply seamlessly to everyday living, off the mat.
The eight limbs of the Eight-Limbed Path—like the limbs of a tree—are integrally linked to each other, proceeding in a basic order, from external to internal, guiding us toward inner peace. Our journey starts with the first limb, or yama, which consists of five principles that help make us aware of how we see and interact with the external world. Next, we arrive at niyama, the second limb, which also consists of five principles. The niyamas invite us to look inward and truly get to know ourselves through reflection and self-study. The third and fourth limbs are active, energetic practices. In Patanjali’s day, the third limb, or asana, meant a comfortable seated position. Today it refers to yoga’s physical poses. The fourth limb, pranayama, meant a practice of slowing the breath, and has since evolved into the various breathing exercises that we know today. Both of these limbs, asana and pranayama, prepare the body and mind for the three limbs that follow: pratyahara, inward focus by withdrawing the five senses; dharana, concentration; and dhyana, meditation. The eighth and final limb—which is understood to be the ultimate reward—is samadhi, described by some as ecstasy and by others more simply as enlightenment, contentment, or inner peace.
Samadhi is a grandiose concept, but Patanjali and the ancient yogis believed it to be achievable by every human being of any means. Indeed, today we might understand samadhi to be the natural, blissful reward of being kind to others, nurturing the self, and living in the moment. The following pages provide overviews of each limb of the Eight-Limbed Path, and offer modern-day applications of this ancient wisdom.
The yamas, loosely translated from Sanskrit as “restraints,” offer five ethical guidelines for behaviors to avoid in daily life. In this first limb of the Eight-Limbed Path, the focus is on the yogi’s relations with the external world. By shifting how they view the external world and by making adjustments to how they interact with others, they prepare themselves for the internal self-improvement that lies ahead (see The Five Yamas, page 146).
In action: View the yamas as what not to do. Don’t hurt others. Don’t lie or steal. Don’t misuse your sensuality or be greedy. Follow these simple rules, yoga wisdom says, and you’ll reduce your suffering while increasing the happiness of others.
Having improved their outlook and interactions with others by applying the yamas, the yogi turns inward and applies niyama, the second limb of the Eight-Limbed Path. The niyamas, loosely translated as “observances,” are five guidelines that promote self-betterment, leading a step closer to the ultimate goal: Inner peace (see The Five Niyamas, page 152).
In action: Use the niyamas to support your personal, internal growth. Get to know yourself. Cleanse your mind, your home, and the environment. Cultivate contentment and discipline. Surrender attachments—to belongings, bad habits, and negative thoughts, for example.
Many today are surprised to learn that yoga’s physical poses are only a small part of a traditional yoga practice. Originally, they were meant to prepare the mind and body for meditation—the seventh limb—which requires long periods of sitting. Yoga poses, called asanas (asana means “seat”), make the yogi strong, energetic, flexible, and calm, releasing long-held tensions in the body and opening it up to new possibilities.
In action: Engage your body by challenging yourself physically. Attend a yoga class, or lay out your mat in your home and cycle through some poses (see Yoga Poses, page 36). Set an intention: What do you want to gain? What do you want to lose? Make a commitment to that moment, and cultivate discipline by practicing daily, weekly, or as it suits you. And embrace the fact that, as a “practice,” yoga is never complete or finished, but rather is an ongoing process—a journey that is the destination itself.
While the physical body is refined through yoga poses, the energetic body is refined through breathing practices, which encourage energy to flow freely throughout your body. Prana means “life force,” and the breath is seen as a primary vehicle for transporting life force. Ayama means “control.” Pranayama means aiding the movement of life force through the body by controlling the breath, and is a foundation of yoga practice. Focused breathing has both calming and energizing effects on the body and mind, key preparations for the steps ahead on the Eight-Limbed Path.
In action: Improve your breathing habits by simply taking note of them. Inhale. Exhale. At what point does your breath feel constricted? When do you get restless? Gain an awareness of your breath by exploring the breathing exercises in this book (see page 162).
The fifth limb of the Eight-Limbed Path trains the yogi to overcome distractions such as fear, cravings, and desires, by withdrawing the five senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch). By shifting the focus away from the outside world, you are able to more clearly observe yourself and gain powerful self-awareness.
In action: The next time you feel a craving, fear, or desire, use it as an opportunity to practice pratyahara. First, acknowledge the urge in a nonjudgmental way. Notice the thoughts and feelings related to it. How does your body feel? What is your mind telling you? How would it feel to give in? How would it feel to not give in? The self-knowledge that results from gentle observation of your thoughts and feelings can enable you to resist these distractions and focus instead on planting seeds of inner peace.
The sixth limb invites the yogi to apply their newly rewarded clear-headedness to a new goal: Concentration. By focusing attention on a single point, one can still the mind, further bolstering it against harmful distractions and preparing the yogi for the next step on the Eight-Limbed Path: Meditation.
In action: Whether you are preparing for meditation or just want to sharpen your focus, concentration is a valuable tool for staying in the present moment and offering your undivided attention to yourself, your hobbies or occupation, and your loved ones. Practice concentration by finding a comfortable seated position. Choose a word, phrase, object, or sound to focus on. Notice when you become distracted, and gently guide your attention back to your point of focus as often as needed.
Meditation is an ancient practice that enables the mind to enter a state of uninterrupted concentration and relaxed calm. The previous six limbs of the Eight-Limbed Path have prepared the yogi for this step by slowly and intentionally guiding them inward, helping them detach from distracting external influences. Meditation, the seventh limb, delivers the yogi to the eighth and final limb, samadhi—a blissful state, free from suffering.
In action: Flex your new concentration skills with one of the meditation exercises in this book (see page 166). Be prepared for constant interruption, as thoughts and sensations will inevitably intrude on your focus. Don’t judge yourself if you’re not “good at it.” Meditate, perhaps, on self-acceptance.
The eighth and final limb, samadhi, is the ultimate reward—a blissful state known by many names: ecstasy; enlightenment; inner peace; union with the divine; a feeling of oneness with the world; a sense that everyone and everything is connected; freedom; happiness. According to ancient tradition, samadhi is achieved at the height of meditation. In reality, it can be achieved any time the self is engaged intentionally, compassionately, and honestly.
In action: There are an infinite number of ways to experience samadhi, for no two people are alike. What’s your version of samadhi? When do you get that feeling that all is right in the world? For some, samadhi happens in nature—in a forest or at the ocean’s edge. For others, it happens when cooking a meal for loved ones, composing a poem, or playing with children. It might happen in short, fleeting flashes. Or it might linger just long enough for you to study its brilliance, challenging you to stay present in the moment while it lasts—not grasping at it, developing attachments, or fearing its departure. It might happen frequently or rarely, under good circumstances or bad, when you’re alone or among crowds. Samadhi takes many shapes and forms and it’s always within reach. In time, and with practice, you might come to see life—in all its glorious imperfection—as samadhi itself.