Yoga and the Heart of Compassion

Coming out of a five-day silent meditation retreat, I find myself deeply reflecting on the word compassion; a term that kept arising throughout the retreat, often in relation to the breath, to self, and to others. As I balanced the duties of facilitation and my own practice, I found that this word, compassion, echoed through every moment of stillness.

The word “compassion” comes from Latin, meaning “to suffer together.” I have always loved how we can break this word down into two root parts:

• Com = with
• Passion = any intense emotion

 To be compassionate is not only to suffer with another, but to be present with intense emotions, whether those arise within us or within someone else. Compassion invites us to embrace what’s difficult, to truly be with ourselves and others in times of emotional turbulence.

This is why I believe contemplative practices, such as yoga and meditation, are so powerful. They don’t just bring calm or peace; they reveal to us where we’re not yet fully compassionate with ourselves. These practices ask us to look at what we might avoid—both in ourselves and in others.

At the heart of practices like meditation and yoga is the invitation to truly know yourself: to face the conflicts, the contradictions, and the painful parts of your being. By sitting with these aspects of ourselves, we transform. When we process our own suffering, we become more capable of offering compassion to others. Thich Nhat Hanh beautifully said something to the effect of, “Your understanding of your own suffering can be medicine for another. It’s like offering sunshine or fresh air.” This is the kind of compassion that is born from deep self-awareness: one that offers something genuine to the world.

While retreats are often seen as a sanctuary of peace and tranquility, where all our problems will miraculously resolve, the reality can be much more confronting. When the distractions of daily life fade away, a different landscape of emotions and experiences often emerges. In silence, we may face old resentments, deep fatigue, or unaddressed grief. These uncomfortable truths often arrive uninvited, but they are exactly what we need to face if we are to experience true healing.

Pema Chodron speaks to this when she says, “Acknowledging that we are all churned up is the first and most difficult step in any practice.” Retreat, whether silent or not, offers us the chance to face these moments head-on. It challenges us to stay with what is, rather than running from discomfort or hiding behind distractions. This is the true essence of compassionate practice: the willingness to meet ourselves fully, no matter what arises.

In moments of discomfort, we are gifted with tools to help us stay grounded. The breath and mantra are powerful anchors in our practice. A mantra—such as OM or a simple phrase like Ham, Sah (meaning “I am that”)—offers a gentle guide back to the present moment when the mind wanders.

It’s in these moments of “noticing” that we experience the true gift of mindfulness. Realizing that the mind has wandered, and then bringing it back to the present, is an act of awareness in itself. This is a profound moment of clarity, a celebration of the present and the silver bullet that we’ve been looking for all along.

At the core of yoga and meditation practice is the ability to sit with whatever arises; thoughts, feelings, memories, and even suffering. This is where the alchemy happens. When we sit with discomfort, instead of running from it, we begin to digest it. We can slowly and intentionally break down the suffering and transform it, not by fixing it, but by fully acknowledging it. In this way, our practice becomes an internal laboratory for healing. By facing our own suffering with compassion, we build the capacity to offer that same compassion to others.

In my humblest opinion, this is where true healing begins. When we embrace the parts of ourselves that we’d rather hide, we open up to something greater. Compassion isn't just a feeling, it’s a transformative practice. I like to think of this as the “gut” of practice. This is where we can digest and alchemize it all and then it allows us to become an elixir for others, not by fixing them, but by simply being present, fully and wholeheartedly.

Whether through yoga, meditation, or daily life, compassion is the practice of staying present with both our own suffering and the suffering of others. It asks us to look at what we often avoid and invites us to sit with what is uncomfortable. Cultivating compassion is a worthy mission where we not only heal ourselves but become a source of healing for those around us.

OM, I wish you success in your practice.