Awakening the Reflective Mind in Asana

Yoga isn’t just about doing—it’s about sensing, responding, and refining from within.
In this post, we explore B.K.S. Iyengar’s teaching on the front brain and back brain in asana. Discover how shifting from mechanical action to reflective awareness can deepen your practice and help you move with greater clarity, sensitivity, and presence.

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Samadhi: The Merging of Consciousness in Practice

For the experienced practitioner, Samadhi—the eighth limb of yoga—can feel like the most elusive part of the yogic path. Often described as a state of total absorption, it is sometimes seen as a distant goal, reserved for sages in deep meditation. But Samadhi is not an endpoint; it is cultivated through continuous, dedicated practice.

We may experience glimpses of this state in practice—moments of complete absorption where the fluctuations of the mind settle, and awareness becomes singular. But just as often, we notice the gaps: the mind wavers, the body holds tension, the breath becomes uneven. Samadhi is not about achieving a perfect state but about refining awareness until separation dissolves and only the experience remains.

The Role of Body, Breath, and Mind in Practice

Yoga involves the integration of body, breath, and mind, with each layer supporting the next. While asana prepares the body and pranayama refines the breath, these are means to bring steadiness to the mind—the prerequisite for deeper states of concentration (dharana), meditation (dhyana), and ultimately, Samadhi.

The gaps in practice—where the body resists, the breath falters, or the mind is restless—are part of the process. Rather than forcing alignment, the work is to develop continuous awareness so that the mind does not waver, the breath flows steadily, and the body becomes a vessel for inner stillness.

Effort, Will, and the Moment of Surrender

Yoga requires discipline (tapas), but exertion alone does not lead to Samadhi. As B.K.S. Iyengar writes in Light on Life, "Sometimes the body is willing, but the mind is weak. At other times, the mind is willing, but the body is weak." The fluctuations between effort and hesitation are part of the practice.

At a certain point, effort gives way to surrender (isvara pranidhana). There is a moment when the pose stops being something we "do" and becomes something we are fully absorbed in. This is not passivity—it is a refined state of balance where effort and awareness merge, and the practitioner is neither pushing nor hesitating.

The Transition from Dharana to Dhyana to Samadhi

Concentration (dharana) leads to meditation (dhyana), which can unfold into Samadhi. When the mind is focused without distraction and attention remains steady, it can transition into deeper absorption.

While Samadhi is often associated with seated meditation, asana itself can be meditative when practiced with full awareness. In rare moments, when the mind is unwavering and the body and breath are fully engaged without effort, a practitioner may experience a glimpse of Samadhi—a moment where only the experience remains, and all sense of separation dissolves.

Yoga is not confined to the mat. The discipline of practice prepares us for life, teaching us how to remain steady, even when faced with challenges.

Glimpses of this steadiness may appear in daily life:

  • When deeply engaged in work or study, with full concentration and no distractions.

  • In moments of complete stillness, where thoughts settle naturally.

  • When a challenging situation demands full attention, and there is clarity instead of reaction.

True steadiness does not come from suppressing fluctuations but from refining awareness so that distractions lose their hold.

working with the Mind-Body Divide

The struggle between the body and mind is a familiar one. "Sometimes the body is willing, but the mind is weak. At other times, the mind is willing, but the body is weak."

This fluctuation is natural, but through dedicated, intelligent practice, the forces of body, breath, and mind begin to work together. Instead of forcing the body or suppressing the mind, the practice is to observe, adjust, and continue—with patience and perseverance.

Samadhi does not require perfection. It requires presence.

A Practical Approach to Cultivating Absorption

One way to develop steadiness of mind is to bring complete attention to a single breath cycle during practice.

Try this:

  • Choose a moment in an asana where you feel stable.

  • Observe one full inhale and one full exhale without controlling or anticipating.

  • Notice how the breath moves through the body, how awareness follows, and whether the mind remains steady.

This small act of focused awareness is an entry point to deeper states of concentration and absorption, refining the ability to remain present in practice—and in life.

Final Thoughts

Samadhi is not something to chase; it is something that unfolds gradually through dedicated practice.

It emerges in the seamless integration of body, breath, and mind. In the balance of effort and surrender. In the ability to remain fully present without forcing or resisting.

So where do you notice glimpses of Samadhi in your practice? And where does it still feel out of reach?

With continued practice, patience, and self-inquiry, Samadhi may reveal itself—not as a distant goal, but as a state that arises when the conditions are right—both on the mat and in daily life.

The Dual Nature of Breath: A Path to Awareness

The breath is a marvel. It keeps us alive without a second thought, yet it’s one of the few processes in the body that we can observe and influence. Unlike digestion or the pumping of the heart, we can slow, deepen, or pause our breath—all while watching it happen. This unique quality makes the breath an incredible tool for self-awareness and presence.

Both Patanjali and the Buddha highlighted the importance of observing the breath. In the Yoga Sutras (I.34), Patanjali suggests that awareness of a soft, steady exhalation and the pause that follows can help overcome obstacles in practice. Similarly, the Buddha’s Satipatthana Sutta describes the breath as a foundation for mindfulness. The message is clear: paying attention to something as simple as exhaling can shift our state of mind.

The Breath in Practice

For practitioners of Iyengar Yoga, this teaching is particularly relevant. The breath works as both a stabilizer and a mirror. When the breath is rushed, shallow, or uneven, it reflects the state of the body and mind. A steady, even breath can guide us back to balance.

Take Savasana, for example. In this pose, the breath becomes quieter and more subtle as the body settles. You might notice that the exhalations extend naturally and that a gentle pause occurs after each one. There’s no need to force this rhythm—just observing it brings a sense of calm and clarity.

Effort and Ease

What makes the breath so fascinating is its duality: it’s something we can control, yet it also works effortlessly. This balance between effort and ease mirrors what we aim for in yoga. Think about holding a pose like Trikonasana. There’s strength in the legs, but the chest and breath remain expansive. The breath reminds us to engage without strain and to release without collapse.

A Simple Practice

You don’t need to set aside special time to observe the breath. It can happen while standing in line, sitting at your desk, or lying down in Savasana. Take a moment to notice:

•Are your exhalations smooth and complete?

•Does a natural pause follow each exhalation?

•How does observing your breath affect your posture, tension, or thoughts?

There’s no need to force anything—just notice what’s happening. This simple act of observation can help quiet the mind and soften tension in the body.

Timeless Wisdom

The breath connects the wisdom of ancient texts with the experiences of modern practice. It’s a tool that’s always with us, offering insight, steadiness, and a moment to pause. Whether you’re in a challenging pose or navigating a stressful day, the breath is there—a constant reminder that balance is possible.

Take a moment today to notice your breath. It might be the easiest—and most profound—practice you do.