Work Out or Work In? 

When I work out, I go running, lift weights, dance and make myself sweat. It can be such a good feeling. A feeling of accomplishment, of strength, of being alive in my body.

When I do yoga, I work in.

At least, the yoga I have come to love is a practice that takes me inward. It grounds me, brings my attention to the present moment and invites me to meet myself where I am, just as I am that day. Not where I think I should be, or where I was yesterday, but where I actually am.

Working out can help me discover what my body is capable of. Working in helps me discover how I relate to my body, my thoughts and my emotions. Can I notice when I push too hard? Can I stay present when something feels uncomfortable? Can I meet myself without immediately trying to change what I find?

Yoga can certainly be physically challenging. But for me, its deepest value has never been about achieving a particular posture. It is about what happens when I pay attention, when I listen, and when I begin to understand myself a little better.

Finding what I didn’t know I was missing

I am forever grateful that I took my yoga teacher training in Hong Kong almost fifteen years ago.

I had a strong desire to do a teacher training, but when I was living in Sweden with small children, I couldn’t find an option that felt right. Life in Hong Kong gave me the space and opportunity I needed.

I tried a few yoga studios, but none of them offered what I was looking for. I wanted a practice that would deepen both my physical and spiritual understanding of yoga. I wasn’t interested in extravagant postures or in learning to do something impressive with my body.

I didn’t need to stand on my head. I wanted to stand on my feet, firmly and well grounded.

I didn’t need to perform beautiful poses. I was looking for philosophical depth, something that could widen my horizons, both within and beyond myself.

I began searching and came across Hersha, who was teaching Integral Yoga. I didn’t know her, and I knew very little about Integral Yoga. Still, something about it caught my attention. Despite my ignorance, I had a strong feeling that this was what I was looking for.

There was one space left on the training.

From the very first day, I soaked up every word Hersha said. It was exactly what I needed, although I hadn’t fully understood what I had been searching for until I found it.

I had carried a spiritual longing within me, but I hadn’t had anyone around me who could guide me in exploring it. I hadn’t realised how much I missed that part of my life.

The training changed my life. It gave me a way to explore my spirituality, but also something equally important: a philosophical and ethical foundation to live by. A way of understanding myself and the world, a set of principles to return to, lean on and use as a compass when navigating life.

Those teachings continue to support me today, in the way I live, the decisions I make and the way I meet other people. It was thanks to those teachings that I’ve been able to go through my cancer diagnosis.

I had come looking for a yoga teacher training. I found a path.

The people who show us the way

Hersha entered my life at a time when I needed someone to show me the way.

She was a mother of young children, living what looked like an ordinary life. And yet, within that ordinary life, she was extraordinary. She was a strong inspiration to me, showing me that spirituality didn’t have to be separate from everyday life. It could be lived in the midst of family, work, responsibilities and all the things that make up an ordinary day.

Last week, I returned to Hong Kong and met Hersha again. It felt as though we had been seeing each other regularly throughout all these years, rather than meeting again after a long time.

Since our first meeting, she has continued to follow her own path. One of her greatest dreams has come true: she has opened YAMA Center, a place where people with disabilities, chronic illness or disadvantage of any kind can come and receive the teachings of yoga, without any pressure to pay for it.

It was beautiful to see what she has created. A place where giving yoga for free includes paying yoga teachers a fair wage for their time and energy, while folks in need receive tailored classes suited for their unique needs. A place where accessibility and meaningful work can exist together.

I bought a T-shirt. It says:

Normal is a myth.

I love it.

Perhaps because it says something about yoga, too. About making space for different bodies, different minds and different ways of being in the world. About meeting people as they are, rather than measuring them against an idea of how they should be.

Seeing Hersha again, and seeing her dream become reality, reminded me how much one person can influence another. Sometimes, we don’t fully understand the significance of a meeting until many years later, when we can look back and see how much it shaped the direction of our lives.

A path that keeps unfolding

Yoga has taken me on so many journeys, both inward and out into the world. To trainings and retreats, to different countries, and to people I might never otherwise have met. It has opened doors I didn’t even know existed.

Sometimes I wonder where I would be today if I hadn’t taken that teacher training in Hong Kong. I can hardly imagine it. I know my life would have taken a very different direction.

That decision, made almost fifteen years ago, remains one of the bravest and most beautiful decisions I have made. Because something in me recognised that this was a path worth following, even before I fully understood why.

And that is what yoga continues to teach me. To listen more closely. To become familiar with what is happening within me. To recognise when something feels true, and to have the courage to follow it.

Yoga is not a posture. It is a path. A journey inward that never really ends.

And it doesn’t mean that we should stop running, dancing, lifting weights or enjoying the strength and vitality of our bodies. There is a place for all of it. Sometimes we need to move, sweat and feel our physical strength. Sometimes we need to slow down and listen.

As my friend and fellow yogi Sarah E Helt put it:

“The most powerful practice isn’t necessarily the hardest, sweatiest or most impressive. It is the one that meets us where we are, helps us see ourselves a little more clearly, and gives us something to carry with us long after we leave the mat.”

Perhaps that is what it means to work in.