In my junior year of high school, I found my arms and legs crossed sitting in what the teacher called Eagle – garudasana – and I thought “I like this. This feels nice.”

With time, I have come to understand that it wasn’t necessarily eagle that I liked so much. It was the concentration it took to get there, the thoughts that suddenly cease as you stare with new eyes at the same hands you see and use every single day: “Holy crap, I have a freckle right there on my palm and it’s kinda cute.“

It wasn’t necessarily eagle that I liked so much, it was both the challenge it took to get into the posture – the asana – and the realization that, in a few weeks time, it was no longer a challenge. My body was getting stronger, and I was its ever-so-patient observer.

It wasn’t eagle that I liked so much, it was the fact that every time I got the chance to come stand on that mat, I was grounded and still. The world was passing by but I need not notice. Here, I feel only the mat beneath my feet, I hear only the careful instructions of the teacher. I direct my back left foot to turn 45 degrees in, my front right leg to bend at 90, my palms to join over my head, my gaze – my drishti – to turn upward and suddenly I am a Warrior – virabhadrasana I.

It wasn’t eagle, it was the fact that eight years later, eagle still ebbs in and out of my flow, but now so does sirsasana, parivrtta trikonasana, and matsyasana. Others still, I haven’t unlocked yet. Like little achievements waiting to be unlocked, yoga gradually became my dopamine, where the only thing that mattered was this reconnection with myself.

But what is yoga anyway?

I won’t attempt to try to explain a practice that sages, gurus, and seekers have spent thousands of years contemplating. My words will fall short. I can, however, share what this sacred practice means to me.

Yoga demands that we go deeper, that we look at ourselves from the inside out – and from the outside in. Yoga insists that you show up for you, reminding you that when you do, you are simultaneously showing up for the world. Yoga gives you permission to fail, but always ensures you do so with empathy. Yoga promises to remove the veil and take you back to the very root. Like a mother caring for her child before letting her spread her own wings and fly, fly, fly, yoga reminds you that freedom is right on the other side of discipline.

With this steady mind and open heart, with the recognition of the Divine in yourself and in all beings, an overwhelming sense of peace pervades. Suddenly, with just a bit of persistence, there is health, harmony, and glimpses of samadhi.

And so it is.