I took my first yoga class during my final semester as an undergrad to fulfill a PE requirement. I knew very little about yoga, but somehow it appealed to me more than signing up for a running or random exercise class.

The teacher shared cut flowers from her garden as she talked about her transformational time living in an ashram. She taught us pranayama techniques and meditation in addition to yoga asana. I admired her. She was strong and flexible, and held an air of quiet calm. I wanted to be just like her.

I continued with my yoga practice for a couple of years after that class. She gave us a few handouts and a small bound book to keep up our practice. I enjoyed the way my body felt after a practice, and it was easy to follow a few sun salutations each morning.

A few years later, I found myself the mother of two children, three years old and a baby, and I was overwhelmed and tired most of the time, my art career quickly fading. I had kept up my yoga practice with my first pregnancy, but the demands of motherhood made me feel like I just didn’t have time for my own well being. So I focused on being a mom.

If you know my story, then you know that at that time my eldest daughter contracted E-coli at age three and nearly died. My daughter had survived, but we were all trying to put our pieces back together and figure out how to move forward. I didn’t feel like the world was safe for my babies and my anxiety was at an all time high. But a local yoga teacher offered a summer class, and I felt compelled to sign up. What I noticed after a few weeks was that my mind and body were calm and at ease after each class. Something very deep was going on, and I was determined to learn more.

I began reading more yoga books, practicing in the bathroom during afternoon nap time, and waking up early to practice while everyone was asleep. This newfound intention to completely embody what yoga was, a complete union of body, mind, and soul, became an obsession for me, and I was completely consumed. I was now choosing yoga every day because my need and desire for it had shifted.

Tapas is the niyama of determination and will power. It is usually considered “the heat of the practice that causes change.” It is said that real change only comes from this intense desire to transmute personal energy into something new and greater than what we are experiencing. Tapas is what makes someone wake up extra early to fit in a practice. Tapas is what makes someone find those spare moments in a day to finish project. However, tapas isn’t a task you do out of drudgery. Tapas is an innate desire to follow through on your intention because your very life essence depends on it. Tapas is also choice one makes no matter the failure that might be found. Engaging in tapas often means there is a discomfort and even unpleasant sensations. When engaging with tapas, one isn’t practicing for perfection or completion of a task, one is practicing because the desire to practice is the most intense need in that moment.

Since those early years, my own will power to practice has shifted. This is the natural ebb and flow of living. But tapas isn’t always about enthusiasm and excitement. Tapas is a complete and total dedication to a practice, and it is a daily choice.

Can you ask yourself, what is the reason that you practice anything, be it yoga or some other activity?

Can you dig in deep and investigate your why? Is it for personal, ego-based reasons?

Or are you drawn to a practice because there is simply no other way for you to be who you are?

"Tapas is the fervor of striving to be the best you can, which may mean shifting what you do and how you do it.” ~Yoga Shanti