First was the state, than the posture followed ---Yoga: From Being to Geometry

First Came the State

Disclaimer : This is only a piece of the puzzle not the whole Image

Yoga did not emerge from the postures. The postures emerged from yoga.

This is the foundation of how I understand and teach yoga.

Before there was a posture to photograph, a geometry to perfect, or a sequence to reproduce, there was a state of being.

There was stillness. There was breath. There was attention. There was sensation. There was observation. There was meditation.

First came the state. Then came the shape.

Historically, yoga is much older and much broader than the large vocabulary of physical postures we associate with yoga today. Early yoga was deeply concerned with meditation, concentration, disciplined attention, breath, self-inquiry and the exploration of consciousness.

So I don't believe we should understand yoga as something that began with people creating physical shapes in order to eventually discover meditation.

The direction was, in an important sense, the other way around.

The posture did not create meditation. The posture emerged in service of the meditative state.

As practitioners became still, observed themselves, breathed and explored their inner experience, the body had to organize itself around that experience.

A position emerged.

A way of sitting.

A way of breathing.

A way of holding the body that allowed the practitioner to remain present, stable and receptive.

And from this relationship between consciousness and body, the physical language of yoga continued to develop.

There are traditional accounts of a vast number of āsanas, and later Haṭha Yoga texts give particular importance to a small number of foundational postures. I don't take this to mean that we can historically prove that every posture was literally discovered through meditation. Rather, it points toward something important in the philosophy of practice:

Before there was a shape to imitate, there was a human being experiencing.

Someone had to feel first.

Someone had to sense.

Someone had to explore.

Someone had to notice what happened when the body moved in a certain direction, when the breath changed, when resistance appeared, when space opened, when stability was found.

And eventually, the sensation found a form.

The experience acquired a geometry.

The geometry acquired a name.

And the name became an āsana.

From the Inside Out

Today, it is very easy to reverse this process.

We see the finished posture and begin there.

Put your foot here.

Move your hand there.

Turn your pelvis.

Straighten your knee.

Open your chest.

Make your body resemble this image.

We are given the final geometry and asked to reproduce it.

Then, once we have created the shape, we hope that somehow we will find yoga inside it.

But my teaching begins from another direction.

I don't teach yoga primarily through form. I teach it through feeling.

I want the student to begin by sensing.

What do you feel?

Where is your weight?

What is touching the ground?

Where does your breath move?

Where do you feel pressure?

Where are you creating unnecessary tension?

Where is there resistance?

Where is there space?

What changes when you soften?

What changes when you engage?

What happens to your breath?

What happens to your mind?

Instead of immediately telling the body what it should look like, we first listen to what the body is telling us.

This develops sensitivity.

Sensitivity develops awareness.

Awareness allows organization.

And from organization, the posture emerges.

So the process becomes:

State → Awareness → Sensation → Exploration → Organization → Posture.

Not simply:

Posture → Yoga.

The Radio

I like to think of the body and the posture as a radio.

Imagine several radios sitting next to each other.

Externally, they may look exactly the same.

Same dimensions. Same buttons. Same antenna. Same design.

But turn them on and they may be receiving completely different things.

One receives beautiful music.

One receives someone speaking.

One is between frequencies.

One receives only static.

You cannot know what a radio is receiving simply by looking at its shape.

The same is true in yoga.

Two people can perform what appears to be exactly the same posture.

Their feet can be in the same place.

Their arms can have the same angle.

Their spine can appear identical.

From the outside, the geometry may be almost indistinguishable.

But internally, they may be having completely different experiences.

One person may be fighting the posture.

Another may be holding their breath.

Another may be thinking about how they look.

Another may simply be waiting for the posture to finish.

And another may be deeply present—feeling the ground, following the breath, sensing subtle muscular activity, observing the mind and becoming increasingly receptive to what is happening inside.

Same posture. Different frequency.

The posture tells us what the radio looks like.

It does not necessarily tell us what the radio is receiving.

This is why my role as a teacher is not simply to make everyone's radio look the same.

I want to help people learn how to tune it, to Attune

Breath is part of the tuning.

Attention is part of the tuning.

Sensation is part of the tuning.

Stillness is part of the tuning.

Movement is part of the tuning.

And as our sensitivity becomes finer, we begin to perceive things that were always present but that previously we were not sensitive enough to receive.

Geometry Still Matters

None of this means that alignment or geometry is irrelevant.

Form matters.

Anatomy matters.

Technique matters.

The teacher's eye matters.

Intelligent alignment can create stability, prevent unnecessary strain and help a practitioner explore a posture more deeply.

But geometry should serve experience. Experience should not become a servant of geometry.

If I physically arrange someone into a beautiful posture, I may temporarily create impressive geometry.

But what have I actually taught?

If instead I help someone understand pressure, direction, balance, breath, tension, stability and space, I give them something much more valuable:

the ability to find the posture themselves.

Then alignment is no longer something imposed entirely from outside.

It becomes a conversation between external knowledge and internal intelligence.

I can guide you.

I can give you direction.

I can show you possibilities.

But ultimately, you must feel.

Beauty as a Consequence

And this leads to something very important in the way I teach.

I am not against beautiful postures.

I love beautiful geometry.

But the beauty of the shape and the geometry is a consequence, not a destination.

When sensation becomes clearer, awareness deeper and organization more intelligent, the physical posture often begins to refine itself.

The body finds efficiency.

Unnecessary tension disappears.

Breath becomes freer.

Stability develops without rigidity.

Mobility appears without collapse.

Effort and ease begin to coexist.

And eventually the geometry can become beautiful.

But now the beauty means something.

It is not simply a body that has been arranged beautifully from the outside.

It is the visible expression of something that has become organized on the inside.

The outside begins to reflect the inside.

The posture begins to match the state.

Rediscovering the Experience Behind the Shape

We have inherited the postures.

We know their names.

We have photographs of them.

We have books describing their alignment.

We have thousands of variations.

We have extraordinary anatomical knowledge available to us.

But perhaps our work as practitioners is not simply to reproduce what we inherited.

Perhaps our work is to rediscover the experience behind the shape.

Instead of asking only:

"How should this posture look?"

we can also ask:

"What can I discover here?"

What can I feel?

What can I hear internally?

What changes in my breath?

What happens to my attention?

What happens when I stop forcing?

What happens when I become quiet enough to receive?

Then āsana becomes more than physical performance.

It becomes a place of inquiry.

And the posture once again becomes a vehicle for yoga rather than yoga becoming a vehicle for achieving the posture.

My Statement

First came the state. Then came the shape.

Yoga did not emerge from the postures. The postures emerged from yoga.

Meditation was not simply a consequence of creating the correct physical geometry. The physical posture developed in relationship with—and in service of—the inner practice.

That is why I don't begin with the idea that your body must look a certain way.

I begin with sensation.

Feel the ground.

Feel the breath.

Feel resistance.

Feel space.

Feel effort.

Feel ease.

Become sensitive enough to notice what is actually happening.

Then explore.

Then organize.

Then allow the posture to emerge.

Like a radio, two bodies can have exactly the same external shape and yet be tuned to completely different frequencies.

I am not interested only in what your radio looks like. I am interested in what you are receiving.

So we refine the posture, but not simply to create a more beautiful shape.

We refine our sensitivity so that we can receive more through it.

And eventually, as the inner experience becomes clearer, the outer form may become clearer too.

The geometry may become beautiful.

But the beauty is a consequence, not the destination.

Because ultimately:

The posture is visible. The state is not.

The shape is not the yoga. The awareness within the shape is where yoga begins.

We have inherited the shapes.

Our practice is to rediscover the state from which they came.

Don't make the shape. Feel your way into the shape.

First came the state. Then came the shape.

Yoga is the journey from shape back to state.