Yoga as a Journey

Finding Home Within Yourself

I grew up believing I was just like everyone else... until I realized that the emotional outbursts, severe depression, and debilitating anxiety weren’t something everyone carried. In 2015, my world began to unravel. By 2018, long-buried memories surfaced: I had been sexually abused as a child. More instances would come to light over the years, each one unraveling the carefully constructed barriers I had built to survive.

Then, in 2019, life dealt another crushing blow. Within just three weeks, I lost both my baby and my father. Grief consumed me, and even those closest to me struggled to stay by my side. My best friend distanced themselves, telling me I was “too much.” I felt unmoored, lost in a sea of sorrow with no shore in sight.

And then, in January 2020, a car accident changed everything. Physically broken and mentally shattered, I reached out for something (anything) that might help me heal. That’s when yoga found me.

At first, yoga was simply movement, it was an attempt to restore my body after the accident. But as I delved deeper, I discovered something profound: yoga was far more than just stretching and breathing. Studies have shown that yoga and meditation can rewire the brain, altering neural pathways and improving emotional regulation. Trauma, especially when left unprocessed, can keep the nervous system locked in a cycle of fight, flight, or freeze. Research has shown that yoga helps activate the parasympathetic nervous system (the body’s way of signaling safety) allowing deep healing to begin. One study found that practicing yoga with intentional breath for just 20 minutes can significantly calm this system, reducing stress and promoting emotional balance.

Somatic movement, trauma-informed yoga, mindfulness—these weren’t just trendy buzzwords; they were scientifically supported methods for reclaiming the body after trauma. I devoured every study I could find, eager to understand why certain poses triggered overwhelming emotions. Happy Baby, Child’s Pose; some days, they sent me into fits of tears and rage. Savasana and meditation could spiral me into days of distress. But what I realized over time was this: my memories couldn’t hurt me. They had already happened. What remained was discomfort, and discomfort could be faced.

One of my asana teachers often asked, “Are you in pain, or are you uncomfortable?”  This question changed everything for me. Pain requires us to stop and protect ourselves. But discomfort? Discomfort is where growth happens. I stopped running from the discomfort and started leaning into it. And in doing so, I found healing.

Healing wasn’t just about movement, it was about trust. Trust in myself. Trust in the process. Trust in God. I had spent years hearing phrases like “Trust in the Lord with all your heart” (Proverbs 3:5) and “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). But no one had ever taught me how to be still, how to let go, how to trust.

Yoga became the bridge between faith and embodiment. It gave me the tools to sit in stillness with God, to breathe through suffering, and to surrender the burdens I had carried for so long. I met teachers of all backgrounds: Hindu, Buddhist, Catholic, Evangelical, and each of them found that yoga led them closer to their own beliefs, rather than pulling them away. Because yoga isn’t about changing what you believe; it’s about helping you live it.

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras begin with the simple phrase: Atha yoga anushasanam —“Now, the journey of yoga begins.” The past is behind us, the future is unknown, but now is where we begin.

Life has a way of kicking us around. Pain is universal. While we cannot change the past or control the world, we can choose how we heal from it. Yoga offers us a path, not to escape our pain, but to move through it. To realign, reevaluate, and reconnect with ourselves.

If you feel disconnected from your body, unsure of where to start, I encourage you: start small. Take a deep breath. Step onto the mat, even if just for a moment. Let yourself be present. Your journey home to yourself, to healing, and to faith begins now.

With love and gratitude,

Niah Blue