What Yoga Has Taught Me About Life

When I first stepped onto a yoga mat, I thought I was there to stretch, maybe to feel a little calmer, or simply to move my body in a new way. What I didn’t expect was that yoga would become a mirror—reflecting parts of myself I had forgotten, avoided, or never truly seen.

To be truthful...my first experience in a yoga studio was terrible! I couldn't keep up to the class. I had no idea what the teacher was saying. I tried to follow along, but my balance was terrible. I was angry, frustrated and totally embarrassed!!! I definitely wasn't feeling calmer! I was told that yoga would bring me some Zen...NOT!!!

Following that initial experienced, I stayed away from practicing yoga for years. Then along came Covid and things changed. I was looking for something that Bev and I could do together and as luck would have it a local yoga studio, Ground Yoga, was offering an online 'Yoga for Beginners' class. Bev joined me in this virtual training, even thought she had already been practicing yoga for several years before this. Yes I know - I'm a slow learner!

What I experienced has led me on a path of self discovery that I would would have never thought was possible. Thank you Covid!

That was then & this is now

Now that I’m nearing my 60s, I look back at how I used to live—with constant striving, pushing, competing, and people-pleasing—and I can see how much of it was rooted in old teachings, cultural conditioning, and survival patterns that were no longer serving me. I was doing what I thought I should do: working hard, being productive, staying busy, staying strong, raising a family. But beneath the surface, my body was tired. My mind was overloaded. And I was deeply disconnected from my own needs. Both physical and mental illness had crept in and I didn't even know it, until it hit me right between the eyes.

Yoga didn’t fix everything overnight. But it did begin to untangle the knots. It gave me space to question, to feel, and eventually, to change. It taught me how to listen—not just to my screaming hamstrings or my shallow breath, but to my inner voice. The one that had been whispering all along: “There’s another way to live.”

Here are some of the life lessons that have unfolded through my practice—lessons I return to again and again.

1. The Power of the Present Moment

Yoga taught me that the present moment is not a place we visit after the to-do list is done—it is the life we’re living. In my younger years, I was always looking ahead—planning, preparing, performing. I rarely paused to check in with how I actually felt in the moment. On the mat, I had no choice. I had to be with what was—not what should be, not what I hoped would come next.

That presence has become a sacred practice off the mat too. It’s in the morning sunlight, the quiet cup of tea or coffee, the exhale I take before reacting. Learning to be present has softened the edges of my days and brought a richness to even the most ordinary moments.

2. Discomfort Is a Teacher

In the early days of my practice, discomfort felt like something to avoid—tight hips, shaky legs, an unsettled mind. But yoga taught me that discomfort isn't always a sign that something is wrong. Sometimes, it's a sign that something is waking up. Something is being discovered.

I began to see that the same was true off the mat. Emotional discomfort, difficult conversations, moments of stillness—they all revealed places in my life where something deeper needed attention. Yoga didn’t remove discomfort, but it gave me tools to meet it with awareness instead of avoidance.

Especially now, in this stage of life, I've come to understand that growth often lives just on the other side of discomfort. And instead of running from it, I can sit with it, breathe into it, make it my friend and even learn from it.

On the Mat

One of the most memorable lessons came during a long-held swan pose. My hip was on fire, and my first instinct was to fidget, adjust, escape. But something in me softened instead. I stayed. I breathed. And in that stillness, I felt something shift—not just physically, but emotionally.

That experience has stayed with me as a metaphor for life. When I want to bolt—out of a feeling, a moment, a challenge—can I instead breathe and stay a little longer? Can I trust that the discomfort has something to show me? Something to learn.

3. Progress Over Perfection

For much of my life, I was chasing perfection without even realizing it. I wanted to be the best, do it right, get it all done. Win the awards and get the accolades. I carried that mindset into yoga at first, thinking I needed to nail the poses, keep up with the class, and look a certain way doing it.

But yoga gently unraveled that narrative. There is no final destination or gold star in this practice—only the invitation to keep showing up, one breath, one step, one small shift at a time. And in that slow unfolding, I began to find grace for myself.

Progress is becoming less about doing “more” and more about doing it with integrity—whether that meant taking rest, modifying a pose, or honoring what my body could offer that day. That shift has spilled into every corner of my life. I no longer strive to be flawless; I strive to be whole.

On the Mat

I remember struggling with crow pose—arms shaking, feet never leaving the ground. I’d get frustrated, thinking, “Why can’t I just get this, what am I a whimp?” But one day, without fanfare, I hovered for a breath. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t pretty. But it was mine...I could fly!

That moment taught me that progress is often quiet. It shows up when we’re not forcing it, when we’re patient enough to trust the process. That one breath of lift-off felt more meaningful than any picture-perfect pose ever could.

4. Everything Is Temporary

One of the greatest truths yoga has taught me—one I keep learning, over and over, yes slow learner, is that everything is temporary.

The intensity of a pose, the restlessness of the mind, the feeling of peace after savasana—it all comes and goes. Nothing stays fixed, and that realization has softened the way I move through both my practice and my life.

In my earlier years, I held on tightly to things—roles, relationships, successes and even failures. For some reason thinking I could control the outcome if I just tried hard enough. If I kept replaying it in my mind like I was regurgitating something that I could change from the past.

But life has shown me otherwise. And yoga has given me the language to accept it. To witness change not as a failure or a loss, but as a natural rhythm of being alive. And most importantly to let it go. Especially those things that really weigh me down. Those things that are in some way related to greed, hatred or delusion.

Now, I find that there’s a quiet power in allowing things to rise and fall, including my own energy, purpose, and identity. I don’t need to hold on so tightly anymore. Am I perfect at this? Of course not, it is a practice after all!

On the Mat

There have been times in long-held poses—warrior two, downward dog, or a twist—where I thought, “I can’t stay here.” But then, just like that, the teacher calls for a transition. The moment passes. The tension fades.

That’s when it clicks: no sensation, no emotion, no season lasts forever. When I feel stuck or overwhelmed in life, I remember that everything shifts. Like the breath, it moves. And that gives me the courage to keep going—because I know this, too, shall pass.

5. Connection Over Comparison

In earlier seasons of life, I measured myself constantly—against others’ achievements, appearances, timelines. I didn’t even realize how exhausting it was, or how much it disconnected me from my own experience.

Yoga pulled me inward. It reminded me that my practice—and my life—aren’t meant to look like anyone else’s. My breath, my body, my path are uniquely mine. The more I tuned in, the less I cared about keeping up, and the more I cared about staying true.

This shift from comparison to connection has been one of the most liberating changes I’ve experienced. I no longer want to compete—I want to connect. With myself, with others, with my higher power and with something deeper that yoga has helped me feel, even if I can’t always name it.

On the Mat

There was a time I’d glance around the room and immediately judge myself—He’s stronger, she’s more flexible, why can’t I do that pose? But now, when I step onto my mat, I close my eyes. I listen. I arrive. I feel. I experience.

The mat has become a place where I return to me. A space where I’m not defined by how I measure up, but by how I show up. That internal shift has made its way into my daily life, too—less noise, more presence. Less performance, more authenticity. More me!

6. Stillness Is Sacred

Before yoga, I didn’t know how to be still. I filled my days, my mind, even my body with movement and noise—thinking that busyness meant productivity, and productivity meant worth. I was a "Human Doing", instead of a "Human Being"! Stillness felt lazy, even indulgent.

But yoga redefined stillness for me. It showed me that rest is not the opposite of growth; it is part of it. That quiet doesn’t mean absence—it means listening. And that the most profound insights often come when I pause long enough to hear them.

Now, stillness is something I seek—not as an escape, but as a return. It’s in the moments between movements, the breath between thoughts, the silence between one chapter and the next. The stillness between the inhale and the exhale. Especially now, this practice of sacred stillness helps me navigate life with more clarity and intention.

On the Mat

Savasana used to be the hardest pose for me. Lying still with nothing to do felt vulnerable and strange. It felt like a waste of time. But over time, it became my favorite part of the practice. In that quiet space, I began to truly feel—safe, held, alive. I have learned that Savasana really is the most import yoga posture there is. The stillness opens up for the letting go.

Now, I protect stillness in my daily life the same way I protect time on my mat. I no longer see it as empty space. As a waste of time. I see it as medicine.

Conclusion: What Yoga Has Taught Me About Life

Yoga hasn’t given me all the answers—but it’s helped me ask better questions. It’s helped me unlearn the parts of life that were hurting me and others. And it's teaching me to reconnect with the parts that bring me back to wholeness.

In this chapter of life—I don’t practice to perform. I practice to remember. To remember who I am beneath the noise. To move from intention instead of habit. To live more fully in this body, in this breath, in this moment.

What yoga has taught me about life is this: we are all always becoming. Nothing is permanent. And that we learn more from the whispers and the silence, than the yelling and the running. And the mat is simply one place we learn how to do it with love.

We would love to hear from you. What has your yoga practice taught you about life? Feel free to share your reflections in the comments or in our next class together.

Be sure to subscribe so that you receive notifications on our future blogs!