My Daily Thread

How well do you really know yourself? What if getting to know yourself is getting to know the Divine?

We've been exploring the niyamas in Patañjali's Yoga Sutras—five practices that encourage us to examine and cultivate our inner lives.

After our recent series on tapas, the discipline and inner fire of transformation, we arrive at the fourth niyama:

Svādhyāya — self-study.

In Yoga Sutra 2.44, Patañjali tells us:

svādhyāyād iṣṭa-devatā-saṃprayogaḥ

Through svādhyāya, communion with one's chosen deity is attained.

Wait, What!? A deity?

Isn't self-study supposed to be about understanding ourselves?

Of course! But perhaps there's something deeper.

We spend enormous amounts of time studying everything around us.

Other people's behaviour. Relationships. The news. Social media. Finances. What everyone else is doing.

But how much time do we spend studying ourselves?

And when we do look inward, are we learning—or simply criticizing ourselves?

There's a difference between recognizing our reactivity and condemning ourselves for it, and recognizing that same reactivity with kindness and curiosity.

Self-study isn't about finding more reasons to judge ourselves.

It's about becoming curious enough to learn.

We first explored svādhyāya in Episodes 206 and 207, looking at how discipline creates space for reflection, how sacred texts become mirrors for our behaviour, and how mantra recitation can support our practice.

We also considered a wonderful approach to everyday life:

"Let's see what the world presents."

What if every experience—pleasant or unpleasant—offers an opportunity to learn something about ourselves?

That's where svādhyāya moves beyond studying books and becomes a practice of living.

Over the next few episodes, we'll explore this fourth niyama more deeply, including its traditional connection to sacred study, mantra, and the Divine.

For today, consider this:

What is life presenting to me, and what can I learn about myself through that experience?

Not with judgment.

But with kindness, curiosity, and a willingness to grow.

Yoga Sutra 2.44

svādhyāyād iṣṭa-devatā-saṃprayogaḥ

Om, Peace, Out!

If a little heat transforms us, isn't more heat better?

In this final episode on tapas, we return to Yoga Sutra 2.43:

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Through tapas, impurities are diminished or worn away, bringing accomplishment or mastery of the body and senses.

But how much heat is too much?

Fire can cook your dinner.

Fire can also burn your house right down to the ground.

The same can be true of discipline.

After decades of practicing Ashtanga Yoga, I'm grateful for the discipline of showing up, practicing when I didn't feel like practicing, and staying with it year after year.

But as I've gotten older — and hopefully a little wiser — my relationship with discipline has changed.

My body has changed. My ability to recover has changed. And my understanding of practice has changed.

Which raises an important question:

Is your discipline serving your life — or have you started serving the discipline?

We need some friction for transformation.

But if our practice is constantly injuring us, making us rigid, becoming obsessive, or feeding our ego, maybe what we're practicing isn't tapas anymore.

Sometimes tapas means showing up and doing the difficult thing.

Sometimes it means accepting what life has given us.

And sometimes tapas is having the patience to allow time to do its healing.

So as we finish this series on tapas, ask yourself:

Is my discipline making me more rigid — or more compassionate?

Is it making me more judgmental — or more capable of accepting life exactly as it is?

And if I'm increasingly grasping and gripping for control:

Is that tapas — or is it ego?

Yoga Sutra 2.43

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Om, Peace, Out!

Your phone buzzes. Someone cuts you off in traffic. Something triggers you!? ... Who's running the show?

In this second episode on tapas, we return to Yoga Sutra 2.43 and focus on one important word:

indriya — the senses.

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Through tapas, impurities are diminished, bringing greater mastery of the body and the senses.

The senses take something in.

The body responds.

A feeling arises.

And then we have a choice.

Tapas is not about suppressing what we see, hear, taste, touch, or feel.

It's about cultivating enough awareness to notice what is happening before automatically reacting.

Notice the trigger. Feel the response. Create the pause. Choose the next step.

For me this week, the practice is simple:

Choose joy.

Not because everything is perfect.

Not because difficult feelings disappear.

But because I don't have to let every sensation, impulse, or reaction run the show.

The practice is to become aware of what we are consuming, what we are focusing on, and how quickly the senses can pull us into an automatic response.

Then we create a pause.

And in that pause, we get to choose.

So today, ask yourself:

Are my senses running me — or am I becoming more capable of choosing my response?

Yoga Sutra 2.43

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Om, Peace, Out!

Heat. Fire. Purification. But what exactly are we trying to burn away?

In Yoga Sutra 2.43, Patañjali returns to tapas — one of the three practices we first encountered in Kriyā Yoga and now the third of the niyamas.

But this time, he takes us deeper.

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Through tapas, impurities are diminished or worn away, bringing accomplishment or mastery of the body and senses.

But "impurity" can be a difficult word.

This isn't about believing there's something fundamentally wrong with us. We don't need yoga to make us worthy.

Instead, what if we ask:

What's getting in the way of who I already am?

Reactivity. Compulsion. Distraction. Avoidance. Numbing. Old unconscious patterns that continue to run our lives.

Tapas gives us the opportunity to notice those patterns, create some friction, and begin choosing differently.

The practice isn't about becoming worthy.

It's about becoming freer.

So today, ask yourself:

What unconscious pattern has been running me?

Notice it.

Become curious about it.

And perhaps that's something worth putting to the fire.

Yoga Sutra 2.43

kāyendriya-siddhir aśuddhi-kṣayāt tapasaḥ

Om, Peace, Out!

What does it actually mean to practice contentment?

In this final episode of our three-part exploration of santoṣa, we move from philosophy to practice.

Three simple places to start:

Acceptance. Stop arguing with reality as it is. Notice when the mind gets pulled into regret about the past or an imaginary future — and learn the difference between what you need and what you want.

Comparison. Pay attention to what you're consuming. The yogic idea of mitāhāra traditionally refers to moderation in food; here, we extend that idea to what we're feeding the mind.

Social media, doomscrolling, algorithms, and endless comparison can turn what we have into "never enough." Guard what you allow through the gates of your senses.

Gratitude. Don't just think about gratitude — practice it. Name something good. Write it down. Tell someone you appreciate them. Express it.

Maybe practicing santoṣa can be that simple:

Accept what is. Know the difference between needs and wants. Notice comparison and guard what you let in. Find something you're grateful for — and express it.

सन्तोषादनुत्तमसुखलाभः santoṣād anuttama-sukha-lābhaḥ

"From contentment comes the attainment of unsurpassed happiness."

Mentioned in this episode: Bob Newhart — "Stop It!" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8Et28kBi1A

Om, Peace, Out!

Episode 297: Yeah, yeah! Contentment. I Want More! ... Contentment? or Complacency?

If I'm content with my life, why the hell would I try to make it better?

That's the tension at the heart of santoṣa, the yogic practice of contentment.

In Yoga Sutra 2.42, Patanjali writes:

सन्तोषादनुत्तमसुखलाभः santoṣād anuttama-sukha-lābhaḥ

From contentment comes the attainment of unsurpassed happiness.

But contentment doesn't mean complacency. It doesn't mean giving up our goals, settling for situations that aren't right for us, or pretending we don't want more.

In this episode of My Daily Thread, I explore a different question:

Can I want my circumstances to change without requiring them to change before I allow myself to be okay?

Can I want more money without believing money will make me enough?

Can I want a better relationship without expecting another person to complete me?

Can I work wholeheartedly toward something better without postponing my peace until I get there?

Maybe santoṣa isn't about eliminating desire.

Maybe it's about refusing to make our peace dependent upon the outcome.

Something to sit with today:

What are you telling yourself has to change before you can be okay?

And can you still pursue it wholeheartedly—without needing it in order to be okay today?

Om, Peace, Out!

"I'll be happy when…"

More money. A better relationship. The job. The body. The house. Recognition. The next experience. The travel.

Sound familiar?

In this episode of My Daily Thread, we begin a mini-series on santoṣa (santosha), the second niyama in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras.

Santoṣa (santosha) — contentment, satisfaction.

It's a simple concept. Maybe a little more difficult to actually live.

Santosha is being content with circumstances as we find them, not as we want them to be.

But let's be clear:

Contentment is not consolation. And it isn't complacency.

We're talking about finding gratification and fulfillment—a sense of ease and equanimity in the present moment.

So often we're pulled into the future by our wants and desires.

Or we're pulled back into the past by regret, betrayal and rejection.

Either way, we're not fully here.

The deeper question behind santosha becomes:

Can I be fully present? Can I be at peace with what is happening right now?

And can I do that without requiring my reality to be different before I can be okay?

One of my favorite teachers, Byron Katie, explores this beautifully in her book Loving What Is.

Her work reminds us of the futility of resisting what is actually happening in our present reality.

And that brings us to an important distinction:

Acceptance does not mean approval.

We don't have to approve of what's happening. We don't have to like it.

But we can begin by accepting that this is what is happening.

Over the next couple of episodes, we'll take a deeper look at santosha. Next time, we'll get into the Sanskrit of Yoga Sutra 2.42 and what Patanjali tells us can arise from the practice of contentment.

Until then, maybe notice your own version of:

"I'll be happy when…"

What are you waiting for before you allow yourself to be okay?

If My Daily Thread is useful to you, like it, subscribe, share it with someone who might benefit, or send me your questions and comments. We may even bring some of those questions into future Q&A episodes.

Om, Peace, Out!

What are you carrying forward that you don't need to carry anymore?

Old stories. Attachments. Expectations. Fear of not being enough. Things we still think we need to prove.

In this episode of My Daily Thread, we continue exploring śauca (saucha), the first niyama in Patanjali's Yoga Sutras.

Saucha is often translated as purity or purification. But this isn't about a bad person needing to become good. It's about clearing away some of what clouds the mind so we can become clearer about our intentions—and about where we're actually trying to go.

Because before we start moving toward a goal, it's worth asking:

What is my goal? And am I clear about why I'm moving toward it?

Here's the Sanskrit we're working with:

sattva-śuddhi-saumanasyaikāgryendriya-jayātma-darśana-yogyatvāni ca

And the translation we're using:

"Moreover, one gains purity of sattva, cheerfulness of mind, one-pointedness, mastery over the senses, and fitness for Self-realization."

Now that sounds pretty good.

Who doesn't want a little more clarity? A more cheerful mind? Better focus? A little more mastery over the things that pull us in twelve different directions?

Let's look at a few of those Sanskrit words.

Sattva — clarity, luminosity; the quality of mind associated with balance and discernment.

Śuddhi — purification, cleansing.

This is where saucha becomes more than simply cleanliness. We're creating greater clarity in the mind.

This is a beautiful word.

It can be translated as cheerfulness, gladness, pleasantness or good-mindedness.

I love that Patanjali connects purification with cheerfulness. This isn't purification for the sake of becoming rigid or severe. Something gets lighter.

Eka — one. Agra — point or tip.

So ekāgrya is one-pointedness—the ability to gather the mind rather than having it scattered in twelve different directions.

This is the big one.

Ātma — Self. Darśana — seeing, vision, realization. Yogyatva — fitness, readiness, being capable or prepared.

The idea is that purification and clarity prepare us to see more deeply who we actually are.

And then, because this is My Daily Thread, somehow we get from Patanjali to Madonna.

I recently listened to Madonna speaking with Jay Shetty about her study of Kabbalah. It inspired me to look a little more deeply into that tradition myself.

And around Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, another thread appears:

Reflect. Learn. Let go. Begin again.

Different traditions and different language, but there's something here that brings me right back to saucha.

What from the past year needs to be left behind?

What old story, attachment, expectation or fear is clouding your intention?

And what are you choosing to move toward?

Maybe we can use this moment to usher in our own Spiritual New Year—learning from what has passed, leaving behind what no longer serves us, and moving forward with greater clarity of intent.

Om, Peace, Out!

śaucāt svāṅga-jugupsā parair asaṁsargaḥ

From purity arises a natural distaste for excess attachment to one's own body and for contact with what clouds clarity.

When purity develops:

• Obsession with the body loosens

• Craving, clutter, and unnecessary contact fall away

• You stop feeding what agitates you

Key insight for listeners: Śauca isn't about being "clean" — it's about becoming less hijacked by impulses.

• Eat foods that leave you clear, not heavy

• Bathe, stretch, breathe — treat the body as a temple, not an obsession

• Sleep enough — fatigue pollutes awareness

Soundbite:

"Purity isn't about control — it's about reducing friction."

• Reduce mental junk food (doom scrolling, outrage, gossip)

• Notice what you repeatedly feed your attention

• Ask: Does this bring clarity or agitation?

Practice for listeners: One day. One habit. Remove one thing that muddies your mind.

• Speak truthfully and cleanly

• Less reacting, more responding

• Silence is often the cleanest option

• Who you spend time with matters

• Purity doesn't mean isolation — it means discernment

• Choose people and environments that support steadiness

You don't need to add more to your life to be free. You need to remove what clouds your seeing.

When purity increases:

• The mind lightens

• The heart steadies

• The path forward becomes obvious

Śauca is not moral — it's practical spirituality.

शौचसन्तोषतपःस्वाध्यायेश्वरप्रणिधानानि नियमाः

1:32. śauca-santoṣa-tapaḥ-svādhyāya-īśvara-praṇidhānāni niyamāḥ

In the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the Niyamas are the inner disciplines of yoga. If the Yamas describe how we relate to the world around us, the Niyamas describe how we relate to ourselves.

They are practical, grounded practices—not moral rules or spiritual ideals to perfect. They're ways of organizing our inner life so that clarity, steadiness, and freedom become possible.

Patanjali offers five Niyamas. Each one is a practice of attention. Each one asks us to take responsibility—not for controlling life—but for shaping the quality of our inner experience.

Today, we'll briefly name each Niyama and then explore them one by one, not as theory, but as lived practice.

1. Saucha — Cleanliness Saucha is about clarity and purification—of the body, the mind, and the environment we live in. It asks a simple question: What am I allowing in?

2. Santosha — Contentment Santosha is the practice of being at peace with what is, without giving up the desire to grow. It's learning to stop arguing with reality.

3. Tapas — Disciplined Effort Tapas is the steady heat of practice—the willingness to stay with discomfort in service of growth, not punishment. It's where transformation happens.

4. Svadhyaya — Self-Study Svadhyaya is honest self-reflection. It's the courage to look inward, notice our patterns, and learn from them rather than run from them.

5. Ishvara Pranidhana — Surrender Ishvara Pranidhana is the practice of letting go—of control, of ego, of the belief that we're doing this alone. It's trusting something larger than our personal will.