Asana is Not a Pose: Feeling into the Heart of Yoga

When people hear the word asana, they often think of yoga poses: downward dog, warrior two, tree pose. In fact, it’s common to hear the words asana and pose used interchangeably. But in truth, they’re not the same. And understanding this difference can shift the way we relate to our practice and to ourselves.

© - Naomi Hurst, Doda Yoga

The word pose suggests a shape we make with our body. It can bring to mind an image something fixed, external, and perhaps even performative. A pose can be copied, adjusted, or judged by how it looks. It’s often about symmetry, alignment, form.

An asana, however, is something much subtler. In Sanskrit, asana translates as “seat” or “the place where one sits”, not just physically, but also mentally and energetically. It’s not about making a shape; it’s about inhabiting one. It’s about being in your body, not posing in your body.

When we practice asana, the focus shifts from how it looks to how it feels, from external form to internal space.

An asana invites you to feel into the space: into the breath, the body, the energetic terrain of your inner world. You are not forcing the body into a shape, but rather exploring what arises when you soften into the moment, when you meet yourself exactly as you are.

This simple act of tuning in, of feeling, can be profoundly harmonising. It allows us to notice the subtle imbalances, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. It offers a way back to ourselves when life feels scattered or disjointed.

The asana becomes a container for this awareness. A place to pause, breathe, and listen.

Modern yoga often emphasises doing, doing the pose, doing the flow, doing the work. But yoga, at its heart, is a practice of being. Asana is a doorway into this way of being.

When we move beyond the pose and into the experience, we touch something quieter and deeper. A sense of harmony that arises not because everything is perfect, but because we are present with what is.

In this way, asana becomes less about mastering a form and more about meeting yourself with honesty and kindness. It becomes a daily practice of coming home.

Next time you find yourself on the mat, pause in a familiar shape, perhaps child’s pose or mountain. Close your eyes. Instead of asking, “Am I doing this right?” try asking, “What am I feeling right now?”

Notice the difference.

This simple shift can transform your practice from one of striving to one of softening. And over time, this gentle way of meeting yourself in asana can ripple out into your life, creating a more harmonious relationship with your body, your breath, and your being.

Naomi Hurst