Reclaiming Our Inner Vows in a Fractured World

Lately, I've been reconnecting with the Yogic vows I took years ago. To me, taking a vow is a deeply personal act—a silent promise made to one’s Soul. It’s a sacred agreement between the personality and the Divine, a commitment to honor higher values, values that the ordinary self might not have recognized before—or may have even resisted.

For the most part, I don't talk about these vows. They’ve felt too intimate, too inward. But this week, I began to mention them. I’m deeply concerned about what's unfolding in our country, and in the world—a concern I won’t go into here, at least not today. But these vows, these promises, have come alive for me in this context. They ask not only for personal integrity but for presence in the wider world.

As a yoga teacher writing on her yoga blog, it feels right to speak about them now—especially since these vows shape how I live, breathe, and serve. Yoga isn’t just something I do. It’s the foundation of how I strive to move through the world—physically, energetically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. For myself, and for those who choose to walk any part of this path with me.

So today, I’ll begin by sharing the first of the vows.

There are ten in total. Five are Yamas, the practices of self-restraint. The other five are Niyamas, the observances or inner disciplines. Together, they are called “the Great Vow.”

The first, and perhaps the most essential, is Ahimsa—non-violence, or harmlessness. Ahimsa is more than a moral guideline. It’s a way of being, a way of honoring the sacredness of life in all its forms. When we take up this vow, we’re not simply following a rule. We’re awakening to a principle so deep and real that it becomes part of our perception—part of how we feel truth. And we aim to live by that truth.

Ahimsa rests on the principle of interconnectedness. When we begin to sense that all of life is One, we naturally become more sensitive to the suffering of others. When an insect is crushed, we wince. When an animal is harmed, we shudder. When someone is bullied, we tremble. When a child is neglected or abused, our hearts twist. And while we may not always know what to do, we can, at the very least, refuse to cause such harm ourselves.

Ahimsa isn’t just about refraining from killing, as instructs one of the Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt not kill.” It’s about becoming sensitive to what harm truly means. It includes the way we speak, the energy we carry, and the intentions behind our actions. A harsh word, a dismissive gesture, a conversation behind someone’s back—these, too, are forms of violence. The more we awaken to subtle harm, the more fully we can embody this vow.

I offer this reflection as a gentle reminder—to pause and consider the principles that live in your heart. What are they? Were they chosen or inherited? Do you feel them deeply? Do they guide you?

And perhaps more importantly: Do you agree with them? Are they alive in you? Have they, or will they, become vows—sacred commitments you live with and live by?

Self-awareness is what allows us to answer these questions. And that self-awareness requires honest, compassionate introspection. Sometimes we find we are living by principles we don’t actually believe in—rules we follow because we feel compelled to by outside pressures.

Yoga is an inward journey, a path of discovering not what we’ve been told, but what we know in our deepest being. It invites us not only to recognize our principles, but to live in harmony with them. To become the living expression of truth.

This, to me, is where yoga begins.

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” ― Mahatma Gandhi.

Photo credit: Baatcheet Films on Unsplash