Why do we often resist what can help us heal? Yoga and I have been circling each other for years. Calling it a love-hate relationship would be misleading. The truer story is one of resistance—a quiet push and pull that has followed me since my early twenties. You might say that yoga has lingered at the edges of my life like an old companion I could never fully embrace nor dismiss. At my core, I acknowledge that yoga practice is invisibly yet palpably transformative.
When I was younger, it was certainly easier to resist yoga for its slower-paced practice, which focuses as much on the breath as on the asanas (postures/physical poses), because I felt invincible, as we all do in our youth. Who had time for yoga? Who had time to slow down the breath, to pause and reflect? At the pace I was living, I didn’t or told myself I didn’t anyway.
The truth is that I’ve always known I had lousy breathing techniques, holding my breath at times when I should have been taking long, deep inhalations. When I was ten or so, my singing teacher told me I held my breath too much as she pushed me into the sternum so hard it hurt. Needless to say, I only lasted for four sessions until I refused to go back. It was clearly a way to resist her forceful, relentless approach, which didn’t resonate with my overly empathic disposition as a child.
During a period in my life when I was facing a crisis, I’ll never forget something that Bruce Damer said to me once in my San Francisco back garden, “The quality of your life is the quality of your breath.” He went on to say that he knew I was stressed because of the state of my plants, pointing to one that didn’t look healthy. The combination of both statements brought tears to my eyes. “How could I have let my plants down?” Notice that my mind didn’t jump to letting myself down, but rather the plants came first. It’s always been that way – who needs serving or servicing first? My grandparents, my cousins, my friends, my teachers, my clients. Simply put, I was raised that way, like so many of us.
The idea of surrendering in spiritual practice involves surrendering to your higher self, rather than allowing the ego or lower self to get the better of you. Surrendering to your higher self also means that self-care and self-love must be part of the equation, which is challenging for someone who was conditioned to believe that you need to perform to be recognized, heard and respected, and even to receive love.
What we teach in the work we do is mostly about embodiment and understanding that you are the “guru” you seek “out there.” I believe that it is through embodiment that we not only understand this wisdom but also live it in our daily lives; it’s when “the practice” ultimately becomes us.
Yoga for Longevity
Certainly, on paper, yoga has no shortage of longevity benefits. It improves flexibility in your hips, spine, shoulders, and hamstrings, maintains mobility and reduces stiffness. One of the biggest longevity markers is balance, and yoga helps to improve proprioception (body awareness) and coordination. Far from just stretching, as it may appear to an onlooker, many asanas improve core strength, leg strength, upper-body endurance, and postural muscles. Many report improved spinal movement, posture and reduced chronic low back pain.
Through breath awareness, yoga reduces stress, supports the nervous system and improves the quality of our sleep and parasympathetic nervous system. And since chronic stress affects inflammation, cardiovascular health, sleep, and recovery, it can indirectly support longevity. Yoga is also said to support cardiovascular health, improve circulation and help you recover more easily from stress. People have been known to say things like, “I feel less compressed and more spacious in my body.” Elasticity improves, and breath awareness through yoga can enhance diaphragmatic breathing, our sense of calm and the efficiency of our respiratory system.
There’s no shortage of benefits to yoga. As someone who grew up as an athlete and understands the benefits of movement, why did I resist yoga in the first place?
You see, my mind equated yoga with slowing down and slowing down meant aging in that monkey brain of mine. This is the part of our brain that reacts quickly, impulsively, emotionally, or habitually—especially when we feel distracted, anxious, threatened, crave something, or get caught in repetitive thoughts. Social and family conditioning often throws us into that unhealthy cyclical loop. Slowing down means discovering that they are simply a story or someone else’s beliefs, not our own.
Sound familiar?
I first tried yoga in my twenties, starting at the Bikram Yoga Studio on JFK Street in Cambridge, which was one of the early East Coast studios that helped drive the Bikram yoga expansion. The heat was too much for me, and the studio was always packed. I remember seeing large beads of sweat from a neighboring yoga participant on my mat (not his) more than once. It happened so often that I finally left the practice behind and resorted to cycling instead. There, I was one with nature and didn’t have to dodge someone else’s sweat.
Ten years later, I discovered Pretzel at a small independent studio on Carolina Street in Potrero Hill, where I lived for a stint. I also dabbled with Hatha yoga in San Francisco and later, Vinyasa at various studios in the Mission and SOMA. Even though I was young and in shape, a sports injury made many of the movements challenging for my left shoulder and knee. Since many of the postures were painful or downright difficult, I felt like a failure. I couldn’t keep up with the moves, and at that time, no teacher came around to say, “Do you need a modification?”
After I gave it up again, a wise old yogi shook her head, frustrated that the West had turned it into a sport of sorts. “It’s all about your breath,” she said. “Being in the present moment. Being kind to yourself and others and learning this gentleness as a life path while you’re on the mat. There’s no right or wrong way; there’s only your way. Yoga is a relationship with yourself.”
I finally got it. Perhaps I was older and wiser myself and had already begun an internal journey with teachings from Ken Wilbur, Wayne Dyer, Pema Chodron and Yogananda.
But still I resisted it.
Not long after, I received a press invitation to Jamaica, aimed at promoting the destination for yoga, of all things. And so, I went. After all, I had always been drawn to Jamaica, which, to be honest, was the real reason for my acceptance. Classes were fleeting, didn’t require serious commitment, and I enjoyed every minute of the experience. After returning home, I even signed up for a yoga retreat. Yet, my shoulder continued to hurt from the poses, even with modifications.
Me in Jamaica for a yoga FAM trip
Yoga for Inner Peace
Yoga is often portrayed as a path of peace, flexibility, and inner balance. Images of serene practitioners sitting effortlessly in meditation or flowing gracefully through poses can create the impression that yoga is easy, especially for athletes accustomed to pushing their muscles to the limit. Yet for many people, the reality is far more complicated. While yoga offers profound physical, emotional, and spiritual benefits, it can also evoke resistance, discomfort, and even emotional turmoil. It isn’t uncommon for someone to experience the positive effects of yoga firsthand and still struggle to embrace it consistently. Understanding this paradox requires looking beyond physical practice and into the deeper psychological and emotional dimensions of what yoga asks of us.
The word “yoga” comes from the Sanskrit root yuj, meaning “to unite” or “to yoke.” Traditionally, yoga is a path toward integration—a process of bringing the body, mind, emotions, and spirit into harmony. Genuine integration often requires us to become aware of aspects of ourselves that we have spent years avoiding, including our shadows, which, when overlooked, can lead us towards a dark night of the soul, or many of them.
Modern life offers countless distractions that keep people busy and disconnected from their inner worlds, and certainly that was the case during my many years in the technology industry. Work, entertainment, social media, and daily responsibilities are great ways to keep uncomfortable emotions safely tucked away beneath the surface. Yoga, however, invites stillness. In that stillness, unresolved feelings may emerge. Grief, anxiety, anger, loneliness, fear, or old memories can suddenly become much more noticeable. For some, this experience can be unsettling. I’ve heard stories from friends who cry on their mats, without knowing the root of it. People may experience tears during meditation, frustration during a difficult pose, or a deep sense of vulnerability while practicing mindful breathing. These reactions are not necessarily signs that something is wrong. Rather, they may indicate that long-held tensions—both physical and emotional—are beginning to release.
Understanding Resistance
A major source of resistance lies in the challenge yoga presents to the ego. Many people derive their sense of identity from achievement, productivity, and control, just as I had been conditioned under the Patriarch in business settings for decades. Yoga requires us to slow down, listen inwardly, and accept where we are in the present moment. The practice gently reveals limitations, imbalances, and habits that we prefer to avoid.
For example, someone who prides themselves on being strong and self-sufficient may find it uncomfortable to recognize feelings of exhaustion or emotional need. A highly competitive person might become frustrated when they can’t perform certain poses. Yoga frequently confronts us with the gap between who we believe we should be and who we actually are in the moment. Such encounters can provoke resistance because they challenge long-standing self-images.
There’s also a biological component to this struggle. Our brains are designed to favor familiarity, even when familiar patterns are not beneficial. Change can feel threatening because it requires new neural pathways and behavioral habits. If someone has spent decades operating in a state of chronic stress, busyness, or emotional avoidance, the calmness cultivated through yoga may initially feel unfamiliar or even uncomfortable. In some cases, people can become so accustomed to stress hormones that relaxation itself feels strange. Foreign. Unsettling.
This phenomenon helps explain why I was able to readily acknowledge the benefits of yoga for improved mood, sleep, flexibility, and overall well-being, yet still found excuses not to practice. The benefits are real, but the transition away from old patterns can create internal resistance. Part of the mind wants healing, while another part clings to what feels familiar. Tony Robbins talks about this “stuckness” often in his work.
The Bridge to Healing
Recently, I’ve given yoga another “go.” At first, some of the older emotions surfaced, but, ironically, they only lasted two weeks. I credit this to the enormous amount of spiritual work I’ve done in the past fifteen or so years. Although I haven’t yet cried on my mat, emotions surface that I need to process. My approach is: Be gentle on yourself when emotions emerge. If we’re not gentle, then it’s easy to go into self-judgment mode, which is never helpful. When the body relaxes and the nervous system shifts away from constant stress responses, emotionally suppressed material surfaces into conscious awareness, ready to be released and healed. If we allow them to, that is.
Emotionally, yoga helps regulate the nervous system and cultivate resilience. Through conscious breathing and mindful movement, we can respond to stress more skillfully rather than reacting automatically. Yoga encourages self-observation without judgment, a practice that can foster greater emotional intelligence and self-compassion. Over time, we can develop a deeper understanding of our thoughts, feelings, and behavioral patterns.
Whenever I feel pain, I try to push through it, even though most modern advanced teachers will never encourage it. Since I know the source of my back pain is muscle contraction and tightness, my linear mind says to Self, “Loosen, loosen, loosen and let go.” In other words, surrender. That surrender includes submitting to doing a pose a different way if my body asks for it . . . without self-judgment. True freedom lies in that moment, because yoga is about the inward journey, which is what I write about and teach. Trusting that source of wisdom. Inner Gnosis is the key. Self-acceptance is the key. Gratitude is the key. Love is the glue along the way, or we could say, the bridge to healing.
“Surrender,” the higher self says. “I’m listening,” my lower self responds. And so it goes. Sometimes I laugh when I leave the studio, and other times I feel emotional. Sometimes, I simply feel inner peace. “I showed up again today,” the higher self says to my lower self. In other words, I committed to my health and well-being again today. It’s not just during practice, but in the words we say to ourselves in each and every moment. Celebrate every small victory, which is simply this: anytime you say “yes” to solitude time for you and your soul. For your Spirit. It’s this place—what I like to call our inner compass—that understands and innately knows our oneness with nature, and to every living thing.
Spiritually, yoga can offer a profound sense of connection—to oneself, to others, and to something larger than the individual ego. Whether approached through a religious, philosophical, or secular lens, yoga invites inquiry into the nature of awareness and consciousness. When we stay at it, we can experience moments of peace, clarity, gratitude, and inner spaciousness that extend far beyond the yoga mat.
One of yoga’s greatest gifts is not comfort but honesty. The practice holds up a mirror. It reveals where we are rigid, where we are afraid, where we are disconnected, and where healing is needed. Such revelations aren’t always pleasant. Growth rarely occurs without some degree of discomfort. In this sense, resistance to yoga is often resistance to the transformation it can bring.
I no longer see my long-time emotional struggle with yoga as failure. Rather, it is like all transformations in life: an integral part of the process. Resistance often emerges precisely where and when growth is possible. When we feel challenged by yoga, we might just be encountering aspects of ourselves that are ready to be acknowledged, integrated, and healed.
Ultimately, yoga invites us into a relationship with ourselves that is both compassionate and courageous. It asks us to meet our strengths and our vulnerabilities with equal honesty. While some begin yoga seeking physical benefits, they often discover that the deeper journey is emotional and psychological. The struggle itself becomes part of the practice, and somewhere along the way, we begin to change our perception of the word struggle altogether, so that this, too, becomes divine. It becomes part of the miraculous journey we call life.
In the end, yoga is not about achieving perfection or maintaining constant tranquility. It’s about learning to remain present with whatever arises—comfort or discomfort, ease or resistance, joy or sorrow. Yoga is a spiritual journey. And it is also alchemy with its quiet but radical amazement.
The very feelings that cause resistance to yoga may also be the doorway through which its greatest benefits emerge. Through patience, consistency, and self-compassion, yoga becomes a dear friend, one we travel with for a lifelong exploration of healing, awareness, and inner freedom.
Thanks for listening.
What has your experience been?
Renee Blodgett is the Founder and Managing Editor of We Blog the World, a global travel, culture and lifestyle publication exploring the world through the lens of meaningful experiences, human connection and cultural depth. Having lived in 10 countries and traveled to 95, Renee has spent much of her life immersed in the people, traditions, landscapes and ideas that shape how we experience the world.
Since launching We Blog the World in 2007, she has written and produced extensive editorial coverage spanning boutique and luxury travel, culinary experiences, arts and culture, wellness, adventure, technology, spiritual traditions and transformative travel. Her work is rooted in the belief that travel is about more than where we go—it is also about what a place, culture or encounter awakens within us.
Renee brings more than three decades of experience across journalism, photography, media, brand strategy, technology, wellness and global storytelling. She has worked with companies and organizations around the world on brand positioning, communications, product launches, media strategy, speaker positioning and storytelling. Through Blue Soul Media, she works with authors, entrepreneurs, thought leaders and purpose-driven brands to clarify their message and expand their impact, which includes speaker coaching/training for high-profile stages such as TED and bringing authors’ work to market while retaining authors rights.
She is also the co-founder of Blue Soul Earth, an educational platform exploring consciousness, ancient wisdom, spirituality, healing and the intersection between science and the nature of reality. Renee is the producer and host of the award-winning Blue Soul CHATS, a conversational series bringing together leading voices in science, technology, consciousness, wellness and spirituality.
Her growing body of work also includes Blue Soul Living, which extends her interest in consciousness and well-being into the spaces we inhabit, exploring how intentional design, energy and environment can support greater harmony and connection.
Renee is the award-winning co-author of the bestselling Magdalene’s Journey and founder of the Magdalene Collection, inspired by women’s voices, stories and wisdom across cultures and generations.
A longtime photographer and storyteller, Renee has documented people, places and cultures around the world and produced photographic collections focused on destinations including the Galápagos Islands, London, South Africa, Rome and Ecuador. She also co-founded Traveling Geeks, an international initiative that brought entrepreneurs, journalists, creators and technology leaders together with their counterparts in other countries to exchange ideas and explore innovation across cultures.
Renee’s work has been recognized by Forbes, the United Nations and others for her influence in media and social storytelling. Across her work in travel, media, consciousness and culture, a common thread remains: curiosity about the world, the stories that connect us and the ways meaningful experiences can change how we see ourselves and one another.
