Clearing the Fog

Practice has a way of showing us not only what’s peaceful and luminous, but also the patterns that cloud our view. This week I found myself looking at those patterns more closely — and wondering what it means to keep practicing without the pressure to find the “right” way.

by Jessica Girija Jewell Teaching yoga means I’m always in the role of student, studying and practicing to keep the teachings alive in daily life. The more I study, the more I see how many ways yoga can be interpreted. The same idea can be presented in very different ways depending on the author, the time, the lineage, and the orientation.

Over the years, I’ve noticed a quiet undercurrent in myself — a search for the “right” way. The right philosophy. The right way to be in relationship with the divine. In yogic thought, patterns like this are called samskaras — mental impressions or habit-patterns that can be carried from past lives or formed in this one. They influence everything we do, say, and see — until we begin the slow, often uncomfortable work of noticing and reshaping them.

These patterns don’t just live in the mind — they show up in how we approach practice itself.

This morning, while reflecting on people who see the world very differently than I do, I made a conscious choice to set aside judgment. In that moment of softening, it occurred to me — almost like an aha! — that I might be shaping my understanding of yoga philosophy to fit the limits of my samskaras. Then came a disquieting thought: perhaps those patterns are guarding a truth I don’t want to face — that underneath it all, there’s only emptiness. That possibility was unnerving. But then I remembered the poetry, music, and teachings that speak of divine love, and hope stirred that maybe that love is real.

Once we begin to notice our patterns, it’s easier to understand that everyone else has them too. A friend once pointed out that even if two people are sitting side by side, looking at the same wall, each is seeing it from a slightly different perspective. No wonder it’s hard to agree on much of anything — we’re all filtering the view through our own history, conditioning, and long-held habits of mind.

I’m coming to understand the practice in another way — one that probably should have been obvious — that there is no one right way, only many different, confused, samskara-infused ways of seeing. Part of our exploration is clearing some of that fog, so we can see a little more clearly. This is the work of svadhyaya, self-study: learning how we relate to ourselves, paying attention to what’s revealed, and letting that be part of the path.

Relationship with others is part of this too. Like the jeweled web of Indra’s net, each connection reflects every other one. I led a 12-step meeting last week and shared this quote: “Tolerance is the art of seeing yourself as others see you — and not getting mad about it.” Lately, that’s what Indra’s net means to me. It’s not about detaching from what others think — I see that as spiritual bypassing — but about using what’s reflected back to better understand ourselves.

Yoga practice is a dynamic relationship, not a fixed result. There will be days when the practice feels flat, and others when it opens into something luminous. Both belong. Neither needs to be clung to or feared.

I invite you to spend a bit of time wondering — 

What would it be like to meet your practice — and yourself — as a relationship, without the pressure to find the “right” way?