About a year and a half ago, my whole perspective on yoga changed. “Changed” may not be the right word—but broadened or shifted.
I was in the throes of significant life challenges and craving something deeper from my practice.
Not the poses, not the breathwork or the mindfulness (all valid and necessary), but the knowledge tradition: the ancient texts, and the language of Sanskrit.
An Eye-Opening Shift
So I turned to the tradition. I dove in. It was like opening the door to a secret garden that I had only a vague idea existed.
I discovered the Upaniṣads, the philosophical portion of the ancient Hindu ritual texts known as the Vedas, and then commentary after commentary expounding on their meanings.
The sheer volume of material is staggering, spanning centuries. It is from this rich metaphysical soil that yoga originates. These texts don’t teach religious dogma, but they provide a fascinating way to examine the human experience.
I found it both exhilarating and refreshing.
Encountering Nonduality
What shocked me most was learning about the principle of nonduality, a core concept in the Upaniṣadic-based philosophy called Vedānta. I had heard and understood inklings of this idea on the periphery of what I knew. Whispers of it. But after listening to a few lectures by a Swami who teaches it plainly, I was hooked.
The assertion is that underneath it all—this wild world, filled with billions of individual beings—is one reality. One consciousness they call Brahman (or Ātman as the individual reflection).
I went from attempting to understand something so seemingly radical to “this makes complete sense”.
Three central ideas often summarize Vedānta:
The “oneness” of all existence
The divinity of the Self (Ātman)
The underlying harmony of religions and spiritual traditions
I had and still have a lot of questions. Questioning is a part of the practice—it’s called manana: inquiry, reflection, and sustained contemplation. The teachings are meant to be challenged.
What Does It Really Mean
If we are one universal consciousness, what does this mean for daily life, in a world of very separate existences? And the enduring and nearly unanswerable question: What about all the suffering that we see and experience and inflict upon each other?
The teachings say we suffer because we forget who we really are.
Ironically, it is our human mind that both reveals and shields this knowledge. So we act small, we make mistakes, inflict harm on ourselves and others, and we suffer.
It is a big leap to make from what most of us understand as our reality. As much as I connect with the teaching, I’m still learning and trying to understand as well.
What I began to understand is that while yoga primarily works through practice and clarifying the mind, Vedānta says that liberation is available through knowledge and discernment—both rich sources of practice and wisdom.
Why This Matters Now
One thing I’m coming back to, though—and how important that it could be—is that if we can recognize this universal consciousness within ourselves, can we see it in all others as well?
The principle doesn’t stand on “othering”. The teachings tell us that we are all the same. This is the basis for the deepest compassion and the most ethical of all ethics.
In these times of divisiveness and fear, these ancient teachings offer something essential to our modern-day struggles, not as a bypass, but an opportunity to look at ourselves in a new way: complete, whole, eternal, and one with all.
Sample Verses
The verses below (a mere inkling) offer a glimpse into the concept of nonduality… and an acknowledgement that suffering is a universal to the human experience, regardless of time and place.
Īśā Upaniṣad 1.6
Sanskrit:
yastu sarvāṇi bhūtānyātmanyevānupaśyati |
sarvabhūteṣu cātmānaṃ tato na vijugupsate || 6 ||
Translation:
One who sees all beings in the Self, and the Self in all beings—by that vision, one feels no revulsion or hatred.
—Īśā Upaniṣad 1.6
This verse speaks to the ethical core of the teachings. If we can see ourselves in others—and others in ourselves—how can we justify hatred, exclusion, or harm? It is important to acknowledge that this way of seeing is not easy. None of these teachings calls for passivity or indifference, but for clear thinking and compassion.
Chāndogya Upaniṣad 6.8.7
Sanskrit:
sa ya eṣo’ṇimaitadātmyamidaṃ sarvaṃ tatsatyaṃ sa ātmā tattvamasi śvetaketo iti bhūya eva mā bhagavānvijñāpayatviti tathā somyeti hovāca || 6.8.7 ||
Translation:
That which is the subtlest essence—this entire universe has that as its Self. That is the Real. That is the Self. That thou art, O Śvetaketu.
—Chāndogya Upaniṣad 6.8.7
The Upaniṣads often teach through conversations and stories. In the Chāndogya Upaniṣad, a father, Uddālaka, instructs his son Śvetaketu in the nature of reality. This passage contains one of the great mahāvākyas, or “great sayings,” which sum up the teachings in very short statements. In this verse, tat tvam asi—“that thou art” or “you are that” is an expression of nonduality in three words.
Chāndogya Upaniṣad 7.1.3
Sanskrit:
so’haṃ bhagavo mantravidevāsmi nātmavicchrutaṃ hyeva me bhagavaddṛśebhyastarati śokamātmaviditi so’haṃ bhagavaḥ śocāmi taṃ mā bhagavāñchokasya pāraṃ tārayatviti taṃ hovāca yadvai kiṃcaitadadhyagīṣṭhā nāmaivaitat || 7.1.3 ||
Translation:
“Revered sir, I know the sacred words, but I do not know the Self. I have heard from those like you that one who knows the Self crosses beyond sorrow. I am suffering from sorrow. Please take me beyond sorrow.”
He replied, “Whatever you have studied so far is only name.”
—Chāndogya Upaniṣad 7.1.3
This passage shows a key moment in the teaching. Śvetaketu has learned a lot, yet his understanding remains intellectual. Uddālaka acknowledges it directly. Understanding the words is not the same as knowing the Self. Śvetaketu knows that real grasp would free him from sorrow, but he has not yet fully arrived there.
Oṃ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ śāntiḥ
Om peace peace peace
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