What if transformation isn't about transcending the body, but finally arriving in it?
For years, I thought yoga was about escape—about getting out of this complicated meat-suit and into some ethereal realm of pure consciousness. I'd close my eyes in savasana and try to float away from myself, as if the body were simply a launching pad for the "real" spiritual work happening somewhere else.
I was doing it backwards.
The Body Keeps More Than the Score
We've all heard the phrase "the body keeps the score"—Bessel van der Kolk's powerful reminder that our tissues remember what our minds prefer to forget. Trauma lives in our hips. Anxiety tightens our shoulders. Grief collapses our chest.
But here's what we talk about less: the body doesn't just keep the score. It also keeps the poem, the prayer, the promise. Every time we practice—every time we breathe into a shape, soften around an edge, find stability in the wobble—we're not just releasing what's held. We're inscribing something new.
This is the alchemy.
What the Neuroscience Shows Us
Modern neuroscience is finally catching up to what ancient yogis knew experientially: the body and mind aren't separate systems communicating through some mysterious intermediary. They're one unified system, constantly in conversation.
When we move with awareness, several things happen simultaneously:
- Proprioception deepens - We develop a more refined internal map of our body in space, strengthening the connection between our brain and our tissues.
- The vagus nerve activates - This crucial nerve that connects brain to body shifts us from sympathetic (fight-or-flight) to parasympathetic (rest-and-digest) states.
- Neuroplasticity occurs - We literally rewire neural pathways, creating new patterns of thought and movement to replace old, unhelpful ones.
- Interoception strengthens - We become better at sensing our internal states—hunger, emotion, need—which is foundational to self-regulation.
In other words: asana practice isn't just stretching. It's a systematic rewiring of how we inhabit ourselves.
The Practice is the Laboratory
I often call the yoga mat "the laboratory of the body." It's where we get to experiment with questions like:
- What happens when I breathe into discomfort instead of bracing against it?
- Can I be both strong and soft at once?
- What does it feel like to be fully present in this body, right now?
- How do I respond when something is hard—do I push through, give up, or find a third way?
These aren't just yoga questions. They're life questions. And the beauty of the practice is that we get to answer them in real-time, in our tissues, where the wisdom lives.
"The mat is where we practice being human—not perfectly, but honestly."
Why Alignment Matters in This Process
This is why I'm so particular about alignment in my classes. Not because there's one "perfect" way to do a pose, but because alignment is the language the body speaks.
When we understand why we're doing something—why we externally rotate the back leg in warrior II, why we engage our core in plank, why we ground through all four corners of the feet in tree pose—we're not just following instructions. We're learning to read our own body's feedback. We're developing discernment.
And discernment is everything.
It's the difference between pushing through pain (retraumatizing) and working with appropriate challenge (growing). It's the difference between performing a shape that looks good and inhabiting a shape that feels aligned from the inside out.
The Alchemy Happens in the Integration
Here's where the philosophy meets the practice: In yoga philosophy, we talk about samskaras—the grooves of habit, the patterns that run us. These live in our bodies as much as our minds. Maybe more.
Every time we practice, we have the opportunity to choose: Do we reinforce the old groove, or do we carve a new one?
Do we collapse into familiar tension, or do we experiment with spaciousness?
Do we force and push (replicating old patterns of self-coercion), or do we find the balance between effort and ease?
The alchemy isn't instant. It's not dramatic. You won't leave one class completely transformed. But over time—months, years, decades—the practice accumulates. The new grooves deepen. The body learns a different story.
What This Means for Your Practice
So what does all this mean when you roll out your mat?
First: Show up with curiosity, not judgment. You're not here to punish your body into submission or achieve some Instagram-worthy shape. You're here to listen. To experiment. To learn the language your body speaks.
Second: Pay attention to the details. The "why" behind alignment cues matters. When a teacher explains the actions in a pose, they're giving you tools for self-awareness. This is how you become your own best teacher.
Third: Honor the integration time. Savasana isn't optional. Those moments of rest aren't wasted time—they're when the nervous system integrates what you've practiced. This is where the alchemy completes.
Fourth: Remember that transformation is embodied. You can't think your way into a new pattern. You have to practice your way into it, breath by breath, pose by pose, day by day.
The Body as Sacred Text
In my years as a metalsmith, I learned that transformation requires three things: heat, pressure, and time. You can't rush alchemy. The raw diamond doesn't become refined gold overnight.
The same is true in asana practice. The heat is the challenge, the sustainable effort. The pressure is the edge where we meet resistance. And time—time is showing up again and again, trusting the process even when we can't see the results yet.
Our bodies are sacred texts, written in a language older than words. Every sensation, every breath, every moment of arriving more fully in our skin—this is the practice reading itself back to us.
And maybe that's the real alchemy: not transcending the body, but finally, fully, inhabiting it. Not leaving ourselves behind to find something "higher," but discovering that the divine was here all along, waiting for us to come home.
This article is an expansion of themes I explore in my classes, where we pair detailed alignment instruction with dharma talks that connect ancient philosophy to lived experience. If this resonates, I'd love to practice with you.
Reflection: What patterns are you currently reinforcing in your practice? Where might you experiment with carving new grooves? I'd love to hear what lands for you—reply when you get the newsletter.
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