I recently wrote on social media about the addiction to the intensity of sport activities while having HA. It is one of the main reasons, among others, that create depletion in the body. We give too much energy to movement and not enough to simply living, digesting and allowing the reproductive system to function. Because for the body, the reproductive system is not essential for survival. And when the energy tank is empty, it is the first to be switched off.

I have been there. And I remember clearly: too much was just not enough.

On top of having a physical job as a yoga teacher, I found myself practicing on top for hours in the morning and if I could add a long walk to go to my classes, even better. I felt invincible, high on adrenaline, not even feeling hungry, so no real need to fuel my body as much as I thought. I was doing it so wrong…

And it was not only the exercising. During HA, the body is deprived twice: deprived of rest and deprived of nourishment. I ignored my hunger signals, numbed them with intensity, convinced myself that “I did not need” the food my body was begging for. Looking back, it is almost painful to admit how disconnected I was. How I kept pushing, running, flowing, teaching, without offering my body the most basic form of love: food. I used to have this type of personality, very self-demanding, who loves achieving, no matter what.

In my case, I was a newly full-time yoga teacher, running from class to class, organising retreats locally and internationally, enjoying so much what I was doing. Finally, so much free time, I can do everything I want! I always loved sport and exploring my body through different practices was just great. How many times did I regret those choices… However, I may have never understood myself better than through HA. It forced a type of honesty that I never had before.

What helped me a lot during my recovery? Changing my lifestyle. And what contributed to this shift? Yoga philosophy. My trips to India, the time spent in ashrams, the simplicity, the quiet moments where you cannot lie to yourself anymore. You hear your mind. You hear your body. You hear your truth.

In this newsletter I would like to explore with you what helped me to understand that what I was doing during HA was not in my favour and was completely in contradiction with yoga philosophy and its principles.

One of my favourite books is The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Not only do you learn about the foundation and the essence of yoga, but you also learn ethical morals which play a very important part in the entire practice. The yoga path is composed of eight limbs and it begins with the ethical principles toward others and toward ourselves.

I remember clearly the day where, after listening to a “famous” yoga teacher praising the benefits of eating less and other lifestyle rules, I decided to apply those sayings to my day-to-day life and turned from one extreme to another to become fully vegan (on top of eating less). It coincided with the removal of my contraceptive implant and even more physical activities… basically the perfect mix for HA.

Despite applying what I thought were the fundamentals of yoga to my students through asana and meditation, I realised a couple of years later that I was not applying the basics to my own lifestyle.

In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali describes yoga as divided into eight different limbs:

Today, I want to explore with you a few of them and how they can help shift the mindset from self-sabotage to self-love.

Ahimsa, one of the Yamas, is a very fundamental one: no violence to others. When I first came across it, I thought, “Yes of course, it is obvious.” But the more I dived into yoga philosophy, the clearer it became that Ahimsa meant much more than just not harming others physically or verbally. It also includes not harming others through negative thoughts, judgment, or resentment.

And the most important part: it is not only about others.

Applying Ahimsa to myself was as essential as applying it to the world. This is where it struck me. Every time I ignored my body’s signals of hunger or tiredness, I was applying violence to myself. Every time I forced another class, another practice, another long walk “just to burn more,” I was not being kind. I was being punitive.

When we are in HA, our bodies are already in survival mode. Pushing them more is not discipline. It is a form of self-abandonment that we have been taught to admire.

Journaling question for Ahimsa:
Where in my life do I still push myself when what I truly need is gentleness?

Satya, one of the Niyamas, means truthfulness. In yoga, staying true to ourselves, our beliefs and our emotions is foundational to living with integrity and authenticity.

Looking back, was I aligned with my values of health and wellbeing?
Not at all. I was craving eggs, dairy, fish, warm nourishing foods and I ignored all of it. I pushed my body to do more and more when what it really needed was rest. I was lying to myself about what my body needed, and I was decorating it with the language of “discipline,” “drive,” and “passion.”

Satya invites us to remove the filter of ego and fear. It invites us to ask:
Is this really good for me?
Is this supporting my healing?
Is this increasing my sense of safety, or taking me further away from it?

Honesty is not always comfortable. But it is always liberating.

Journaling question for Satya:
What inner truth have I been avoiding because it challenges the identity I built around exercise or food?

Aparigraha means non-grasping, non-clinging. In simple words: letting go of control.

If you have gone through HA, you know how tight the grip can feel around food choices, exercise routines, body image, and even daily rituals. For me, the obsession with being “healthy” became the very thing that harmed my health.

Aparigraha teaches us that control is an illusion. The more we hold onto it, the more anxious we become, and the more disconnected we feel from our body’s natural rhythm.

Letting go does not mean losing yourself. It means trusting yourself.
It means trusting your body’s intelligence.
Trusting that rest will not make you lose everything.
Trusting that nourishment is not dangerous.
Trusting that femininity and softness will not erase your strength.

Aparigraha invites us to stop gripping and start receiving.

Journaling question for Aparigraha:
What am I afraid will happen if I loosen my control around food or exercise?

Each of these philosophical principles translates directly into our movement practice.

Asana:
During HA recovery, asana is not about intensity, pushing edges, or chasing shapes. It is about steadiness, grounding, slowness. It is about re-teaching your body that movement can feel safe and soothing.

Pratyahara:
This is the withdrawal of the senses. For those healing from HA, it can mean protecting yourself from overstimulation: too much fitness content, too many comparisons, too much noise. Creating quietness is not laziness. It is medicine.

Pranayama:
Gentle breathing rebalances the nervous system. It stabilises cortisol, softens the heartbeat, quiets the mind. A slow exhale is literally a signal to your brain: You are safe now.

These practices remind us that yoga was never a sport. It was never about performance.
It has always been a path toward inner peace and harmony.

Recovering from HA is not only about eating more or exercising less. It is a deep re-alignment with your body, your values, your nervous system and your truth.

Yoga philosophy gives us a language for that healing.

Ahimsa teaches gentleness.
Satya teaches honesty.
Aparigraha teaches letting go.
Asana teaches steadiness.
Pratyahara teaches rest.
Your body teaches you everything else.

You are not weak for slowing down. You are not losing anything by resting.
You are remembering who you truly are underneath the rush, the adrenaline, the intensity, and the pressure to perform.

And I promise you, on the other side, everything feels more grounded, more peaceful, and more authentically yours.

With Love,

Audrey