I sound like a poem, I look like a pretzel. I am up to 10,000 years old. What am I?

YOGA.

As I was sitting in the 100 degree room at my local yoga studio, I did something I wasn’t supposed to. In any sort of yoga, one of the primary instructions is to center your mind, to not let it wander. This mentality is encouraged to relieve yourself of the past stresses and to divert your attention from the future stressors that might be dancing around in your brain. Yoga is about a lot of things, but one of the primary ideas is about focusing on the moment.

Naturally, I was doing everything but that. As the instructor began class, I started to notice her language. She instructed us in a fluid manner, letting her voice project softly — and yet powerfully — through the warm room. And yet, it was not the volume of her voice nor the pace of her words that struck me. It was that, embedded within each command, I heard a metaphor.

Take a moment and read through the following text. It is an example of my yoga instructor’s first 30 seconds of class. How many metaphors can you spot?

Sink down into your mat. Now, rise up on all fours; cat/cow posture. Inhale, and round your back over the invisible ball beneath you.

Now, exhale, let your belly hang. A few breaths here. Inhale, then exhale, stick out your tongue: lion’s breath. Zip up through the midline.

Stand, and inhale, filling the lungs, mountain pose. Peel open, look up. Soften your jaw, soften your face.

Stretch your arms up, growing your tree. Root through the feet and open your heart.

Hinge forward. Exhale, rag doll.

Think about one of the metaphors that you found. What does it really mean? What does it tell you to do? To act like? How do you know that, even when the command doesn’t explicitly say so?

Take the command “lion’s breath,” for example. What does that mean? If someone told you to exhale like a lion, what would you think of? Maybe you would think of the physical characteristics of a lion: a great, rippling mass of muscle and tawny hair. You would perhaps then think of the jaws of a lion, made for attacking, ripping, and tearing. You know, based on this mental image, that when this powerful animal exhales, it exhales with force. The lion’s jaws expand to their widest capacity. Maybe you then think of the long, pink tongue of a lion, helping to blow its excess breath upwards to the sky. Does it look something like this?

Even if you’ve never seen a lion in person, even if your knowledge of lions stems from the likes of Simba and Nala, you have a general understanding of its appearance, behavior, and the environment it lives in. Therefore, you can co-create the meaning of the yoga command “lion’s breath”.

Let’s go back to the aforementioned passage. You can use this same line of questioning for any of the metaphors that you’ve discovered there: What does it really mean? What does it tell you to do? To act like? How do you know that, even when the command doesn’t explicitly say so?

How about ‘rag doll’? Even if I have no concept of what a rag doll is, as most Millennials might not, (I did have a Raggedy Ann Doll, for those of you who remember) we can break the phrase down. A rag is a piece of cloth, perhaps ripped or torn and a little aged. A rag holds no energy. A doll is an inanimate object that has all the characteristics of a human, but no flesh, blood, or brains to power them. A doll is lifeless and limp.

So, let’s think about a “rag doll” pose. After you’re told to “hinge” forward from the hips, you can start to take on the characteristics of a rag and a doll to make a “rag doll.” You can let your body go limp, void of energy. You can embody a tattered rag, light and flowing. You could let your arms hang, like a doll that is being haphazardly carried by a small child.

Metaphors fuel the power of this practice. It’s the same idea as if someone told you to get on your elbows and toes and keep your back straight. Isn’t it much easier to understand and execute the idea of a “plank”?

“But yoga is more than physical. It is cellular, mental, intellectual and spiritual — it involves man in his entire being.” B.K.S Iyengar, The Tree of Yoga

Through surface metaphors, yogis are able to understand how to perform the poses and, in turn, how to get the most out of them: a better workout, a better stretch, and better results. But, surface metaphor is not the only type of metaphor that contributes to our understanding of the broader idea. There are many deep metaphors that act as the buckets which these surface-level metaphors fall into. The deep metaphors of yoga typically include connection, transformation, and journey. These deep metaphors allude to social and emotional implications: the more abstract benefits of yoga.

Connection

“Yoga means union. The union of the individual soul with the Universal Spirit is yoga.” B.K.S Iyengar

In practicing yoga, you are able to connect more truly with yourself. It is in this space that you can have more enriched internal conversation. The dialogue could be very physically-based: as simple as evaluating your comfort level during a certain pose, or very emotionally based: as deep as thinking, what is it that is inhibiting me from focusing on myself during this practice?

Transformation

“Yogic practices develop the body and the mind, having both become vibrant, are drawn towards the light of the soul” B.K.S Iyengar

B.K.S. Iyengar, among other acclaimed yogis, drove home the transformational truth of practicing yoga. Not only does yoga transform your body, perhaps making for a leaner or more flexible physique, but yoga transforms internally as well. As you flow through your practice, the intention is to become emotionally “vibrant” and “light”.

Journey

“Philosophers, saints and sages tell us that there are various paths in [yoga] by which we can reach the ultimate goal, the sight of the soul.” B.K.S Iyengar

The deep metaphor of journey is omnipresent when considering the social and emotional implications of one’s yoga practice. Above all, yoga bring us to the spiritual evolution, which is a journey that each and every yogi embarks on at the very beginning of their practice. Whether you know it or not, as you inhale your first breath of your practice, you are simultaneously taking the first step on your journey to finding more of yourself (and your soul). And, just as Iyengar posits, this journey is doubly spiritual as it is physical.

The next time you’re in a yoga class (or spin, pilates, kickboxing, zumba — any exercise that comes with instructions) you are encouraged to break (or bend) the rules: be more aware of the instructional language, and take note of the effect it has on you and on others, and your practice. Find that metaphor and ask yourself: What does it really mean? What does it tell you to do? To act like? How do you know that, even when the command doesn’t explicitly say so? And, even if you’re not planning on being in cobra pose anytime soon, remember the clarifying power of the everyday metaphor.