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The Eight Limbs of Yoga: An Embodied Path for Artists

Writer: š—”š—¶š—øš—øš—¶ š—•š—®š—øš˜€š—µĀ®
š—”š—¶š—øš—øš—¶ š—•š—®š—øš˜€š—µĀ®
Sep 1
8 min read
Showing Up (Even When it Rains)
Showing Up (Even When it Rains)

What happens when yoga moves beyond the mat and into your actual life?


This morning, 240 people showed up for Bryant Park Yoga.

And then it rained.

For the next few minutes, we were making decisions in real time. Maybe five more minutes. Maybe ten. The rain would let up, then come back. The ground was wet. There was equipment and electricity to consider. Producers were telling us it was time to wrap. And 240 people were looking to us to navigate it all.


What struck me wasn’t that we had to stop.

It was how beautifully everyone stayed with the practice.


There was no frustration.

No resistance.

Just a willingness to keep going for as long as we could—and then to let go when it was time.

We may not have gotten our full hour of asana, but we experienced something much deeper.


We experienced TapasĀ in our willingness to stay. Ishvara PranidhanaĀ in our willingness to surrender the outcome. And BhaktiĀ in the devotion that brought 240 people to the park in the first place—and kept them there, even in the rain.


That is yoga in action.

And it is exactly why I believe the Eight Limbs of Yoga are worth exploring beyond the way we traditionally learn them. Because yoga isn’t only what happens when you’re standing on a mat. It’s what happens when life doesn’t go according to plan.



Yoga Is More Than the Physical Practice


When most of us hear the word yoga, we think about poses.

We think about getting on a mat, moving our bodies, stretching, breathing, and then going on with the rest of our day.


And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But the physical practice is only one part of yoga.

Yoga is a much larger system for understanding how we relate to ourselves, our bodies, our energy, our attention, other people, and the world around us.


For an artist, this becomes especially interesting.

Your body is your instrument.

Your attention is part of your craft.

Your energy affects what you create.

Your relationships affect your ability to create.

And the way you see yourself can completely change the way you show up in your work.


So what happens when we look at yoga through that lens?


Not as another thing you have to add to an already busy life—but as something you can actually integrate into the life you’re already living.


You don’t have to practice for 60 minutes every day to practice yoga.

You can practice yoga in the middle of your actual life.


You can notice that you’re about to say yes because you’re afraid someone will be disappointed in you.

You can notice your body bracing before an audition, performance, meeting, or difficult conversation.

You can notice that you’ve been scrolling for an hour and your nervous system feels completely overloaded.


You can take one conscious breath before responding instead of reacting.

You can catch yourself comparing your career to someone else’s and come back to your own path.

You can sit with your creative work instead of immediately looking for approval.

Those moments are practice, too.



The Eight Limbs: A Map From the Outside In

The Eight Limbs of Yoga offer a kind of map.

They move us from the way we interact with the world, inward toward our relationship with ourselves, our bodies, our breath, our senses, our attention, our presence, and ultimately a deeper experience of integration.

You can think of them as a progression from external experience toward internal steadiness and connection.

And when we look at them through the experience of the modern artist, they begin to feel surprisingly familiar.

These aren’t just ancient concepts.

They’re questions you may already be living.


1. Yama — How We Relate

YamaĀ is traditionally concerned with how we relate to other people and the world around us.

For an artist, this immediately brings us into relationships, boundaries, integrity, and the way we use our creative energy.


Have you ever found yourself saying yes when you desperately wanted to say no?

Have you abandoned your own needs to keep someone else comfortable?

Have you stayed in a relationship, collaboration, or creative environment that continually drained you because you were afraid of what would happen if you walked away?


These aren’t simply relationship problems.

They can also become questions of embodiment.


What happens in your body when you know you need a boundary but don’t feel safe enough to set one?

What happens when keeping the peace becomes more important than staying connected to yourself?


Yama gives us a place to begin exploring those patterns.



2. Niyama — How We Relate to Ourselves

If Yama turns our attention toward our relationships with others, NiyamaĀ turns it inward.

This is where we begin exploring our relationship with ourselves.


Self-trust.

Discipline.

Self-study.

Contentment.

Surrender.


For an artist, this can touch some very tender places.

Why don’t I trust myself anymore?

Why do I feel like I’m never doing enough?

Why do I need someone else to tell me that my work is good before I can believe it?

Why do I keep abandoning my own creative process because someone else’s path looks further along?


Niyama asks us to develop a different kind of relationship with ourselves—one that isn’t dependent on constant external validation.



3. Asana — Inhabiting the Body

AsanaĀ is the limb most people recognize.

The physical postures.

The shapes we make with the body.


But what if Asana is about more than getting your body into a pose?

What if it’s also about your ability to actually inhabit yourself?


As an artist, your body is your instrument.

And yet many artists experience moments when that instrument doesn’t feel available to them.


Your body freezes under pressure.

You can’t relax before a performance.

You feel disconnected from yourself when you’re being watched.

You become hyperaware of how you look instead of what you’re expressing.

You brace before you even know you’re afraid.


Before you can fully express yourself, you have to be able to inhabit yourself.

Asana gives us a physical doorway into that relationship.



4. Pranayama — The Breath and Your Energy

If you’ve ever been told to ā€œdo some breathwork,ā€ you’re already touching the territory of Pranayama.


Prana is often translated as life force, and Pranayama works with the breath and the movement of that vital energy.

This becomes especially relevant when we think about anxiety, stress, and nervous system regulation.


Why does your mind race when nothing is actually wrong?

Why does your body go into panic before an audition?

Why do you feel like you’re constantly on alert?


Your breath is already responding to your nervous system throughout the day.

Pranayama gives you a way to become part of that conversation.

Instead of simply being carried along by your physiological state, you begin to notice it.

And from that awareness, you can begin to work with it.



5. Pratyahara — What Gets Your Attention?

PratyaharaĀ is often described as the withdrawal or turning inward of the senses.

But let’s make that practical.


What happens when you are constantly taking in everything around you?

Everyone else’s opinions.

Everyone else’s emotions.

Everyone else’s careers.

Everyone else’s success.

Every notification.

Every headline.

Every piece of information.

Every comparison.


If you’re an empath, easily overstimulated, constantly checking your phone, or deeply affected by what other people think of you, Pratyahara becomes incredibly relevant.

Sometimes the problem isn’t that you don’t have enough information.


It’s that you have too much coming at you.

Your attention is precious.

You don’t have to give everything access to you.


Pratyahara invites us to notice what we’re allowing into our internal world—and what happens when we begin to choose where our attention goes.


Focus the attention inward
Focus the attention inward

6. Dharana — Learning to Stay

DharanaĀ is concentration.

The ability to stay with one thing.


For an artist, this can be everything.


Maybe you have ten ideas and can’t finish one.

Maybe you sit down to create and immediately reach for your phone.

Maybe you’re constantly starting over.

Maybe your attention feels scattered before you’ve even begun.


We often respond by telling ourselves to try harder.

But focus isn’t always about forcing yourself to concentrate.


Sometimes it’s about creating the internal conditions that allow your attention to settle.

When the nervous system is overwhelmed, sustained attention can become difficult.


Dharana gives us a way to explore what it means to stay.

To choose one thing.

And remain with it.


My Mandala Coloring Book Helps Direct Your Focus ... 1 mantra...1 page...1 drawing
My Mandala Coloring Book Helps Direct Your Focus ... 1 mantra...1 page...1 drawing

7. Dhyana — When Presence Becomes Sustained

Something beautiful can happen when attention becomes steady.

Dharana begins to open into Dhyana.

Sustained presence.


There is a moment in the creative process when you stop thinking about whether you’re doing it right.

You stop watching yourself.

You stop wondering how it looks.

You stop thinking about what anyone else is going to think.


And somehow, you disappear into the work.

The musician disappears into the music.

The dancer becomes the movement.

The actor becomes the story.

The painter forgets there is even a world outside the canvas.

Time changes.

The inner critic gets quiet.


You’re no longer thinking about every move.

You’re simply there.


This is the territory of Dhyana.



8. Samadhi — Integration

And then we arrive at Samadhi.

Integration.

Wholeness.


A state in which the separation between you, your creative process, and the thing you’re creating begins to soften.


The boundaries between observer and experience become less rigid.

The musician disappears into the music.

The dancer becomes the dance.

The painter becomes completely absorbed in the painting.

This isn’t about performing better.


It’s about being completely present.

And perhaps that’s why the Eight Limbs aren’t really a checklist.

They’re not eight things you need to accomplish before you’ve ā€œdone yoga correctly.ā€

They’re a map.


A way of understanding the movement from how we relate to other people…

to how we relate to ourselves…

to our bodies…

our breath…

our senses…

our attention…

our presence…

and ultimately our sense of connection and wholeness.


Becoming 1... Separation Dissolves
Becoming 1... Separation Dissolves

Bringing Yoga Off the Mat


This is where the Eight Limbs become particularly powerful for artists.

Because creativity doesn’t live separately from the rest of your life.


Your nervous system is part of your creative life.

Your relationships are part of your creative life.

Your body is part of your creative life.

Your attention is part of your creative life.


And your ability to feel connected to yourself is part of your creative life.

When those pieces begin to come together, something changes.


You become more coherent within yourself.

You become more connected to yourself and to the world around you.


And from that place, your creativity has somewhere to move.

That’s the invitation of an embodied practice.


Not to add another list of things to do.

Not to memorize eight Sanskrit words.

But to begin noticing where these teachings are already showing up in your life.


The next time you’re about to say yes when you mean no, notice.

The next time your body braces before you perform, notice.

The next time you reach for your phone because sitting with your creative work feels uncomfortable, notice.

The next time you catch yourself comparing your journey to someone else’s, notice.

The next time you become completely absorbed in your work and lose track of time, notice that too.


The practice is already happening.

You just have to recognize it.

And maybe that’s the deeper lesson from this morning at Bryant Park.


We didn’t get our full hour on the mat.

But we practiced.

We adapted.

We stayed present.

We surrendered what we couldn’t control.


And 240 people walked away having experienced something that no yoga pose alone could have taught us.


Yoga isn’t just something you do.

It’s something you live.


And the Eight Limbs give us a map for doing exactly that.

Yoga is the vehicle.

Artistry is the destination.


Let your inner artist meet your inner guru.

Namaste,

Nikki



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