Understanding the Yamas: Yoga's Ethical Foundation
Most people discover yoga through movement.
Maybe it was a local studio advertising a beginner class. Maybe a friend convinced you to try it. Maybe you stumbled across a video online because your back hurt or you wanted to become more flexible.
However you found it, there's a good chance your introduction to yoga began with poses.
So did mine.
That's why many people are surprised to learn that, according to the traditional Eight Limbs of Yoga, the physical practice isn't where yoga actually begins.
Before yoga asks us to move our bodies, it asks us to consider how we move through the world.
Those first teachings are known as the Yamas.
Often translated as ethical guidelines or restraints, the Yamas aren't presented as a list of commandments or rules for living. Rather, they’re invitations grounded in five principles to encourage you to build healthier relationships with other people and the world around you, which, in turn, improve your relationship with yourself.
Don’t get it twisted: No one’s perfect. At that, you don’t just “find Ahimsa” one day and have suddenly perfected the Yamas. Just as you may step onto your mat one day and nail a Tree Pose, you could come back the next day and fall out of it, no matter how hard you try. Like everything, this is about intentional practice. It isn’t about perfection, but about building awareness for yourself.
Let’s take a closer look at the Yamas and their meaning.
The Five Yamas
Ahimsa (Non-Harming)
Ahimsa is often translated as “non-violence,” but in everyday life, it can be understood more simply as choosing not to cause unnecessary harm.
That can translate into how we treat other people, but it also includes how we treat ourselves. In many ways, we tend to be our own worst enemies. When you hit the yoga mat and are asked to place your body in compromising positions, you may experience a lot of frustration or negative self-talk when you find something you feel you “cannot do.”
Ahimsa would ask you to back out of the pose rather than forcing your body into a place it isn’t ready to go. In doing so, it also asks you to be at peace with the decision rather than berate yourself for it, for it is made with the knowing that it was the right choice.
The same thought process applies to the way you speak to yourself off the mat, too. If you make a mistake, no matter how big or small, aim to show yourself more compassion rather than negative critique. Ahimsa asks you to remember that strength doesn’t come from punishment.
Satya (Truthfulness)
Satya asks us to be honest. In theory, that sounds easy, but in reality, truthfulness can be a delicate topic. There’s such a thing, to some, as “too honest.” There’s such a thing, to others, as “brutally honest.” Others may seek truth outwardly, only to inwardly hope for lies that match their desires.
Satya doesn’t ask us to bring harm to others through honesty, especially when aligned with ahimsa. It doesn’t ask you to be careless with your honesty, but to simply be truthful in your actions.
Some days, that might show up as admitting you’re exhausted after outwardly pretending everything is fine. Other days, it might mean acknowledging that today’s practice felt harder than yesterday’s.
On the other hand, truthfulness also has to show up for the good things. It doesn’t solely revolve around “I tried my best, even though my best wasn’t good enough, and I’m proud of myself anyway.” It also has to show up as, “Wow, I really struggled with that a week ago, and today it felt like second nature. That was amazing.”
The honesty you begin with yourself translates into the honesty you bring to the world.
Asteya (Non-Stealing)
Asteya translates to “non-stealing,” and most people think the lesson ends there. However, that is hardly where the lesson begins.
When most people hear “don’t steal,” they think things like candy bars from convenience stores or clothing from the mall. Asteya reaches much deeper into the realm of what can be stolen and makes a firm request not to steal anything that is not freely ours.
This, largely, revolves around someone else’s time. Time is considered one of the most precious gifts in this life, and wasting it violates the principle of Asteya. This could be showing up late, staying in a bad relationship, or anything involving someone else’s life.
This could also include stealing someone’s trust, their ideas, or, in the worst case, someone’s life.
In a more present way, asteya also asks us to contemplate our relationship with comparison, especially when we’re on our mats in a group practice and observing how “everyone else” does something.
All the things we can steal from others—time, trust, ideas, comparison, and life—we can also steal from ourselves. Asteya reminds us that someone else's path was never ours to take, and we should always honor the one we’re given.
Brahmacharya (Right Use of Energy)
Brahmacharya is arguably the most misunderstood of the Yamas. Traditionally, it’s associated with celibacy, especially for monks devoted to the spiritual practice. However, modern practitioners and teachers interpret this yama more broadly as being intentional with your energy.
Where do you spend it (Ahimsa)?
What's draining it (Asteya)?
What's worth protecting (Satya)?
In your practice, that might mean choosing rest instead of pushing through another workout. It might mean putting your phone down and being present with the people around you. Maybe that means choosing rest instead of pushing through another workout.
Your attention is one of your most valuable resources, and Brahmacharya asks you to spend it wisely.
It also asks you to view all things in moderation. As with its roots in celibacy, take a look at the things you indulge in—for example, I have a hard time around cookies and beer—and set a limit for yourself that you do not surpass. Your body, as with your attention, is one of your most valuable resources for your energy, so take care of it.
Aparigraha (Non-Grasping)
Aparigraha teaches us to loosen our grip on things outside of our control. Ambition and goals are great, but clinging to any expectations often creates unnecessary suffering.
On the mat, it might mean letting go of the idea that you have to touch your toes every time or master Crow Pose by a certain date.
Off the mat, it could mean letting go of expectations, comparisons, or the need to constantly accumulate more.
Sometimes growth happens not by holding tighter, but by letting go. Your mind’s job is to think, and we won’t fault it for that. But what we can do is notice what comes up, what we tell ourselves, and the expectations our minds create for us. How can you be less attached to any outcome? To let things be?
This asks you to embrace the age-old cliché, “If it’s meant to happen, it will.” No need to force anything along the way.
Why the Yamas Still Matter
At first glance, the Yamas might not seem to have much to do with yoga classes. They don’t give you any insight into weight distribution in Downward Dog. They don’t explain the effects of your Ujjayi breath or help you become more flexible.
They are, however, woven into every practice, and often show up in the themes and discussions yoga teachers bring to their classes. If you choose to modify a pose rather than push through it, you’ve explored ahimsa. If you’ve ever said, “I’m glad I made it today,” you’ve experienced Satya.
Anytime you focus on your progress, especially if you’re able to let go of comparisons to students around you, you’ve reflected asteya. If you allow yourself to practice with intention rather than exhaustion, you have embodied Brahmacharya.
If you can manage to let go of what you think your practice “should” look like, you’ve gone through Aprigraha.
Yoga rarely asks us to become someone new, which is one of my favorite things about it. Instead, it invites us to pay closer attention to the person we're already becoming, the person we already are, the person we have left in the past, and the person we are destined to be.
The Yamas aren't about being perfect, but about noticing every nuance, from how we speak to how we react and move throughout life.
Some of the most meaningful parts of yoga have very little to do with touching your toes or standing on your hands. Often, they're found in the quieter moments when you choose patience over frustration, honesty over ego, or compassion over criticism.
That's a practice that extends far beyond the yoga mat.
Every time you’ve brought your hands together in prayer at the beginning, middle, or end of class, you’ve taken a mudra. If you’ve rested your hands on your knees during your meditation, you’ve taken a mudra. If you’ve so much as given the Peace Fingers to anyone in your daily life, you’ve taken a mudra. There’s even a Gesture of Middle Finger mudra, should it ever apply.
While yoga is often associated with movement, mudras remind us that sometimes the smallest gestures carry the greatest intention.