Practicing Ahimsa taught me not to harm myself, hopefully not even with my thoughts or demands, or at least to realize when I do so to stop the harm. Satya reminded me that telling the truth is not shouting it, but living it, even when it makes me uncomfortable to the core, and doing my best to notice when I commit “betrayals,” especially to myself. Asteya confronted me with the millions of invisible thefts: time, energy, authenticity, attention, etc. But among all of them, I believe there is a common thread: attachment. Because often we do not hurt others out of malice, but out of fear of letting go.
We do not lie out of cruelty, but to maintain an image or situation. And we “steal”—even if it is just a little—because we feel that something is missing. The sequence is unstoppable logic, and here Aparigraha – non-possessiveness- appears not as total renunciation, but as the art of opening the hand. Let go objects, identities, ambitions, grievances, even suffering: we cling because it feels safer than emptiness or uncertainty.
Letting go isn’t always about getting rid of things/ideas/habits; sometimes it’s about unloading, even when I like them, I choose them, and I stay attached.
For me as a yoga practitioner, there is the case of using props, or repeating certain sequences or movement habits I learned during my years of training and, well, also a few “communities”, cultural patterns and personality quirks. Not because they’re essential, but because they feel like at home. And that’s the trick: Aparigraha doesn’t mean turning minimalist or giving everything up. It’s about recognizing what truly supports you and what simply takes up space. It’s about acknowledging what you need to let go of to live a lighter, simpler life.
If you ask me, the real issue isn’t what we keep in our closets, but what we store in our heads ‘just in case’. We could all benefit from clearing out the ‘someday’ drawer — that place where all our unfinished projects live. Letting go doesn’t always free up physical space; sometimes it just gives you mental breathing space. For me, the heaviest weight is still the one I carry in my head and my heart.
Aparigraha also reminds us that infinite desire is never satiated, it just changes shape, color or sustainable packaging.
In modern yoga it also happens: more accessories, more fashionable outfits, more workshops to do or take, more retreats, more selfies in beautiful places, more students, bigger or better decorated rooms… And, in the end, we still feel the same: that something is missing.
Practicing detachment without becoming cynical is the ultimate challenge of modern yoga. Letting go without hardening your heart is one of those tasks that sounds very spiritual until you confront your fears, defenses and old habits. The truth is that it’s easier to appear indifferent than to remain sensitive without clinging on. Cynicism creates the illusion of control and the idea that ‘nothing affects me anymore’. But it also disconnects you from everything that’s alive.
The challenge is not to stop doing things or wanting something different, but to stop believing that the next thing will complete us. Let’s stop projecting, expecting and wishing. Quality, not quantity, say those who know.
There’s nothing harder than practicing without expecting anything in return. Even non-attachment becomes a goal: ‘I’m working on not needing anything — and I am doing amazing!’ Especially the part about needing to work on not needing.
So, how much of what I do nourishes me, and how much merely inflates my ego? What have I truly experienced, learnt and absorbed, and how much of that has fertilized the ground for real growth, genuine friendships and contentment?
All this sounds beautiful in theory. I know that, through experience, when life asks you to let go of what you love the most, it is extremely difficult. There is no posture, pranayama or mantra that can fully prepare you for loss and the pain of breaking. It numbs you, hurts and burns. Aparigraha is not about being well, being strong or getting over it quickly. It means keeping on breathing, even when what we have lost changes us forever.
Aparigraha is not a minimalist lifestyle or an aesthetic form of asceticism. It’s difficult. It is often painfully personal. Practicing prepares us by repeatedly showing the hand opening imperfectly in small moments of choice. It’s all about having less and still feeling complete and never stopping yourself from loving.