Yoga Won’t Save You

Of course if you are hyper-vigilant about everything that you eat, you will eat less crap. Of course when you are able to better control your breathing, your nervous system will benefit immensely. And of course if, for 20 minutes a day, you sit still and relax and commit yourself to nothing more than that moment, that is infinitely less stressful than most other things that 20 minute slot would be filled with otherwise. None of the practices have merit outside of our belief and commitment to them-they hinge entirely on our continued faith in them.

The harm arises when we begin making claims to justify our beliefs. If we refer to yoga as a form of exercise rather than an exercise of breathing and stretching, we prone ourselves to injury by pushing a practice built for relaxation to postures which, without proper care, can cause serious harm. When we reject certain food groups based on assumptions of their nutrition, we tend to neglect the real nutritional picture of the foods we choose instead: “raw” desserts, laden with fats and sugars; “organic” vegetables, which are actually sprayed with “organic pesticides”. When we talk about interconnectedness, we disregard the scientific background to it: chakras are actually a thing called our nervous system; elation and enlightenment are actually chemical reactions in our brains; in a very physical sense, we all breath the same air.

The reality is that there are things we know about the human body, and those are always subject to revision and expansion. But breaking down physiology into notions of abstract energies is not exactly “helping” human evolution. In Dan Ariely’s book, “The Honest Truth about Dishonesty”, the conclusion that is analogous to the one I have made in my “wellness” journey is that, without any system in place, individuals generally perform worse than when they exist. Different systems have varying degrees of success, but all systems are ultimately preferred to none.

Just as a belief in god can often inspire people to act more virtuously than they would otherwise, subscription to wellness movements often forces individuals to be more mindful in all aspects of their lives, and the net result should be positive. But what I have concluded from my experiments with both religious, dietary and lifestyle choices is that ultimately, our commitment to any one choice is what makes it a successful one or not.

What that means for me is not so simple: in an extreme commitment to anything, I inevitable overdo it. But finding balance isn’t about paying $35/class for a new exercise routine or 2x more for “organic” food: it’s about answering the question of, “what’s important to me”, and sticking to it. The answer isn’t anything external because the problem is entirely internal – in all honesty, if you were to ask me that question, I’d evade a definitive conclusion. The truth is I myself don’t know, but I certainly will not be seeking communities of faith in order to figure that out.