Yoga has always been political.
This path isn’t an escape from politics—it’s a direct reckoning with power, injustice, and compassion. Viveka (discernment), dharma (integrity), and satya (truth) aren’t luxuries reserved for retreats. They’re tools forged in the furnace of confrontation. Ancient yogis stood against tyranny. Some were warriors who defied oppressive empires. They did not stay silent while others suffered.
In many Western spaces, yoga has been softened into soothing flows and curated snapshots—but its roots run deeper. Speaking truth, creating space for healing, and standing for dignity isn’t “bringing politics into yoga”—it’s honoring yoga’s essence. Yoga is a path to liberation, and liberation is inherently political. When you center humanity, safety, and justice, you’re practicing yoga in its most courageous form. Offering sanctuary in a harsh world isn’t a distraction from the practice—it is the practice.
As Niemöller warned:
“First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist…
Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me.”
Where does justice stop, if it doesn’t begin with you?
Yoga’s shield is forged in the Yamas—the essential moral commitments that shape how we act in the world. These aren’t gentle suggestions or lofty ideals; they are urgent, uncompromising guides for moments when justice and integrity are on the line.
Ahimsa: The Promise of Non-Violence
Ahimsa teaches reverence for life in thought, word, and action. It’s not just about avoiding harm—it’s about actively cultivating compassion in how we speak, how we vote, how we show up.
If you’ve taken my classes, you’ve heard the way we end every practice: peaceful thoughts, kind words, and love and compassion. That closing mantra isn’t just poetic—it’s a living invocation of Ahimsa. It’s a reminder that our yoga doesn’t end when we roll up our mats. It extends into our daily choices.
And yet, across the U.S., peaceful protesters—many of them immigrants or students—have been met with the opposite. In spring 2025, federal troops, including 700 Marines and thousands of National Guard soldiers, were deployed to cities like Los Angeles under the claim of “restoring order.” But the deployment was condemned by legal scholars and a federal judge as unconstitutional and “unjustifiable escalation.”
Yoga asks us to embody non-violence—not just on the mat, but especially off of it. Sending troops to silence citizens is not keeping the peace—it is breaking Ahimsa at its core. To chant peace in class, but accept violence as governance, is to hollow out our practice. Ahimsa demands more of us than that. It asks us to live the love and compassion we so often whisper in savasana.
Satya: The Way of Truth
Satya, or truthfulness, is inseparable from Ahimsa. The two are married in yogic philosophy—because truth, when weaponized, becomes cruelty, and cruelty cloaked in “truth” becomes propaganda. Satya demands that our words and actions reflect the deepest truths—not just our personal perspectives, but the objective reality that upholds collective peace.
Your subjective truth does not grant you the right to harm others. That is not Satya—that’s ego. The only truth that matters in yoga is one that’s aligned with dharma: justice, unity, and the well-being of all beings.
And yet, we’re living through a time where truth is under attack. Peaceful student protests—calling for a ceasefire, denouncing genocide, or opposing unjust immigration policies—are being branded as “insurrection” or “domestic extremism.” Dozens of pro-Palestinian college activists have been targeted using outdated legal tools like the Alien Enemies Act, with no evidence of violence or criminal intent.
To twist reality for political convenience is not just dishonest—it’s a spiritual violation. Satya asks us to see clearly (viveka), to speak plainly, and to resist the urge to retreat into comforting falsehoods. If you are giving in to conspiracy theories, if you find yourself aligning with ideologies that need lies to survive, then you are not being misled—you are choosing to believe the lie.
Yoga doesn’t offer you that out. It doesn’t ask if the truth is convenient. It asks if it’s clear. And if the system is silencing those who speak that truth—then silence is no longer neutrality. It is complicity.
Asteya: Theft of Dignity
Asteya, often translated as “non-stealing,” extends beyond refraining from taking material possessions; it encompasses respecting what belongs to others—their freedom, identity, and dignity. Yoga’s ethical framework urges us to honor not only our own lives but also the lives of our neighbors, including their gender identity and the right to live authentically without fear.
Yet, recent legislative actions have undermined this fundamental respect, particularly concerning LGBTQ+ individuals. In 2024, the Human Rights Campaign reported that nearly 40% of transgender youth in the U.S. reside in states that deny them access to essential medical and gender-affirming care. These restrictions are not merely policy decisions; they are life-altering measures that jeopardize the well-being of young individuals.
For instance, in 2025, Children’s Hospital Los Angeles announced the closure of its Center for Transyouth Health and Development, effective July 22, due to escalating federal pressure, including an executive order attempting to ban gender-affirming care for individuals under 19 by threatening hospital funding. Although enforcement of the order was blocked by a federal judge, the hospital emphasized that nearly two-thirds of its funding is federal, making it financially vulnerable to policy shifts .
Additionally, in February 2024, Nassau County Executive Bruce Blakeman issued an executive order banning transgender athletes from competing on girls’ or women’s sports teams at county facilities. This order was met with backlash from LGBTQ+ rights groups and state officials, including New York Attorney General Letitia James, who called it “transphobic.” A New York judge struck down the order, ruling that Blakeman did not have the authority to issue such an order without corresponding action by the Nassau County Legislature .
These actions represent a profound violation of Asteya. They strip individuals of their autonomy, safety, and dignity—core elements that yoga teaches us to honor. To accept or remain silent about these violations is to become complicit in the theft of rights, identity, and dignity. It is a call to defend the right for all people to live authentically and safely because when any one of us is stripped of these freedoms, none of us are truly free.
If you or anyone you know is in need of support, please call the Trans Lifeline (877) 565-8860
Brahmacharya: The Discipline of Right Use of Energy
Brahmacharya is often understood as self-control and moderation—living within our means, channeling energy wisely, and avoiding excess. It calls us to direct our life force toward healing, growth, and purposeful service rather than waste or spectacle.
Yet recent political actions demonstrate a stark departure from this principle. In June 2020, active-duty Marines and National Guard troops were deployed in Los Angeles without the California governor’s approval, violating state sovereignty and raising alarms about federal overreach. Around the same time, helicopters were used to clear peaceful protesters from Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., clearing the way for a presidential photo-op at St. John’s Church, an event widely criticized as militarized theater rather than necessary public safety.
These are not acts of disciplined stewardship or purposeful effort; they are demonstrations of power used for intimidation and spectacle. Yoga teaches us to conserve and channel our energy with intention—to foster healing and service to others. The misuse of military force to stage political theater fractures societal trust and wastes communal energy on fear rather than growth.
In embracing Brahmacharya, we are called to live with mindful moderation, focus our energy on compassion and healing, and resist the temptation to wield power in ways that harm our collective well-being.
Aparigraha: The Hoarding of Power
Aparigraha teaches nonattachment—not just from possessions, but from power, ego, and control. It is the practice of letting go—of outcomes, identities, entitlements—so that we can move through the world with openness, not fear. But fascism thrives on clinging. It hoards power. It grips identity. It refuses to release control, even when that control corrodes truth and decency.
This is not just political overreach. It is a spiritual rupture. When troops are deployed to intimidate before elections, when public media is gutted to silence dissent, when agencies are hollowed out and rebuilt to serve loyalty instead of law—this is not policy. It is the architecture of fascism. And it stands in direct opposition to the yogic path.
To support this, to excuse it, to look away—it is to choose attachment over liberation. Yoga demands better. Aparigraha asks us to loosen our grip, to surrender what was never ours to hold, and to build a world not on domination but on trust. If you are holding onto this administration, its cruelty, its lies, its hunger for unchecked power, then let’s be honest: you are not practicing yoga. You are practicing allegiance to fear.
In every dimension—non-violence, truth, discipline, surrender—the dissonance is clear. The Yamas and Niyamas do not exist in neutral gravity. You cannot genuinely claim the path while overlooking these ruptures. To remain silent or passive is not self-care—it is compliance with injustice.
Yoga does not live on retreat—it lives in resistance. It lives in speaking truth. It lives in calling state power to account. If you truly follow this path, then you must ask: Where does your practice align with the world? And where is it silent?
Yoga is ethics. Your politics must reflect your love—so that your love reflects your world.
If Your Yoga Ends at the Mat, It Was Never Yoga
The Yamas are not passive virtues.
They are a test—of how deeply we’re willing to live our values when it’s hard, when it costs us, when silence would be easier.
They ask:
- Will you stand for non-violence when the state calls violence peace?
- Will you tell the truth when the truth makes people uncomfortable?
- Will you refuse to steal dignity, even when the law pretends it’s legal?
- Will you steward your energy for healing rather than for performance?
- Will you surrender the illusion of control so others can simply live?
These are not hypotheticals.
They are moral lines. And right now, they are being crossed—by policy, by propaganda, and by people who stay silent.
Yoga doesn’t ask you to escape the world. It asks you to meet it with your full integrity.
To live this practice is to rise in defense of life, truth, and justice—not just in the studio, but in the streets, the polls, the conversations, the decisions that define who you are.
So now that you see clearly—
What will you choose?
With love and compassion,
Mandy
