From Sensing to Being - Somatics and Yoga in Everyday Life
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A breath before
We were taught to follow instructions.
A sequence of words, movements, tasks.
Shoulders down. Back straight. Breathe into the belly.
We followed these cues not because we knew how we felt,
but because we wanted to be “good students.”
But the body is not a place for perfection.
The body is a place for truth.
In a somatic approach to yoga, we don’t ask,
“Is this pose correct?”
We ask:
“Am I here?”
“Do I feel myself in this movement?”
“What is present in me now — and where?”
These aren’t questions that lead to performance.
They’re doorways back to ourselves.
And suddenly, yoga stops being something we do —
and becomes a way we listen.
Not to the world around us.
But to the quiet world within.
What Somatic Yoga Really Means
In traditional yoga, we often move toward a shape.
We hear instructions, take the pose, deepen it with breath.
But sometimes, in that effort, we forget to ask —
am I actually present in this shape?
The somatic approach doesn’t start from the outside.
It doesn’t ask how we look, but how we feel what’s happening.
The body doesn’t mold to an image — the image dissolves into sensation.
Movement is no longer a task.
It becomes a dialogue.
Instead of pushing the hip closer to the ground, we ask:
“What happens if I just pause here?”
“What am I trying to achieve — and why?”
Somatic awareness is soft, but precise.
It doesn’t seek a result — it seeks a relationship.
A relationship with the body. With breath. With the feeling that comes, lingers, and moves on.
It’s a kind of yoga that doesn’t ask you to be calm.
It allows you to feel — even when you're not.
How It Moves into Everyday Life
The body doesn’t recognize the edge of a yoga mat.
It doesn’t know when the class ends and life begins.
That’s why somatic work doesn’t stay in the studio.
It moves into walking. Sitting. Speaking. Touching.
Into how we reach for a glass.
How we breathe while listening to someone we love.
When we learn to notice sensation during a pose,
the same noticing starts to show up
in how we stand in line,
or how we respond when someone asks us something we’re not ready to answer.
For example:
– Instead of straightening up because we “should,” we ask: is this position actually comfortable for me?
– Instead of sitting like we're “supposed to,” we ask: where does my body want support right now?
– Instead of reacting right away, we pause and feel: where in my body do I sense this tension?
It’s not about “good posture.” It’s about presence.
Somatic attention in daily life doesn’t demand perfection.
It simply asks us to be in our bodies — while life is happening.
And that changes how we choose,
how we respond,
how we listen.
It even changes what we call “our voice.”
Because a body that’s been listened to — speaks clearly.
The Body as Compass, Not Object
For too long, we were taught to view the body from the outside.
As something to sculpt, fix, improve.
Stand straight. Breathe correctly. Don’t show pain.
But the body is not an object.
It’s a compass.
An inner orientation system that speaks quietly, but truthfully — if we know how to listen.
Instead of asking:
How do I look in this pose?
Ask:
Where do I feel myself right now?
Is there a place I’m ignoring?
What shifts in me when I pay attention?
A few gentle ways to let the body lead
-
Pause for 15 seconds and ask:
What do I feel in my chest?
Is my breath expanding or shrinking? -
While standing (in line, at the sink, while listening):
Notice if you're leaning more on one leg.
Shift your weight slightly — not to fix, but to reconnect. -
When tension appears (physical or emotional):
Instead of “fixing” or “controlling,”
ask: What was my body trying to tell me before I ignored it?
We stop using the body to reach the pose —
and begin using the pose to reach the body.
And the more we listen, the less we doubt.
The body becomes a place of trust.
Not because it’s perfect,
but because it’s present.
Closing Thought
Maybe we can't do yoga every day.
Maybe we don’t always find time for the mat, the stillness, or solitude.
But every day, we can feel the body.
As we walk. Sit. Celebrate. Grieve.
As we wash dishes or wait at a traffic light.
These are the moments we return to ourselves —
not because we’re “doing the practice,”
but because we haven’t forgotten that the body breathes,
even when we’re not paying attention.
Somatic awareness doesn’t need the perfect space or silence.
It only asks one thing:
“Can I be with myself, here and now?”
And if even a part of you whispers “yes” —
you’re already in the practice.