ONEYOGAHOUSE

By Tobin Asher

The musician

Human beings are musicians. It doesn’t matter if you own an instrument or know what a scale is, you are a musician. We are here in the human form to play!

A jazz pianist sits with her fingers resting on the keys. She plays a simple chord progression and then begins to deviate. She loses herself in tension and release, in harmony and dissonance, and creates a world within a realm of sound.

A child sits in the forest. He runs his fingers through the dirt. Then he stands and walks through the underbrush. The trees become giants and the wind lifts him into flight and he is lost in the wonder of the world.

The instrument

Human beings are instruments. And I don’t just mean that humans are producers of sound, though I do love to sing and every now and then use my body as a drum. No, when I say that human beings are instruments, I mean this through and through. We are here in the human form to be played!

Picture a cello. Upright, firm, steady. It is primarily a resonating chamber constructed of wooden boundaries ready to vibrate with strings waiting to be bowed. It stands at attention in silence. But it is not an empty silence. It is full of potential. For all it takes is the pluck of a string or the running of taught hairs across their surface or perhaps a gentle breeze, and that potential, potent silence transforms into delicate, delicious sound.

Picture yourself. Upright, firm, steady. You are primarily a resonating chamber constructed of flesh, bones, water, blood constantly vibrating with a consciousness always ready to be stimulated. You stand at attention in silence. But it is not an empty silence. It is full of your beating heart, the whirring of your thoughts, the pangs of your emotions. And all it takes is a word, a sound, a touch, a scent, a memory, and you are transformed.

We humans have the extraordinary privilege of being the musician, the instrument, and the audience all neatly wrapped into one perfect package. Though in daily life we frequently silo ourselves into only one of these components

The audience

Human beings are audiences. We purchased a premium ticket the moment we came into our human body (or perhaps before). And while form and repetition would have me explicate the parallels of theatre-goer and watcher of life, I think at this point you can use your imagination to fill in the gaps. We are here in the human form to watch, observe, experience, and delight.

The whole

We humans have the extraordinary privilege of being the musician, the instrument, and the audience all neatly wrapped into one perfect package. Though in daily life we frequently silo ourselves into only one of these components.

Perhaps we fool ourselves into believing we are solely the musician. We get caught up in trying to control ourselves and the world around us. Obsessing over the details and fretting when we think we’ve played a wrong note.

Some days we see ourselves as nothing but an instrument. Like a boat out at sea, tossed by waves and fully at the mercy of beings and circumstances more powerful than us.

And then there are the times when we take comfort in simply observing our life as an audience observes a play. Watching it race by. Scenes playing themselves out as if we were not even a part of them. Here there is a certain calm in the eye of the storm. But it is still incomplete.

When the aspects of self are separate, we are caught in an illusion. It is when we fully experience all of the self in perfect balance and harmony that we embody the exquisite nature of our true reality. We become aware of ourself as the observer of the sound within, emanating from source vibration. We become one with the orchestra of life.

Suddenly the expanse of unpredictable possibilities and permutations that was once overwhelming and incoherent becomes a playground. Someone plays a note – jubilant, melancholic, soft, overpowering – and we play the next. Perhaps we stay in the same key or we modulate. We harmonize or we decide to play all the notes at once so that the tune is indistinguishable. It doesn’t matter. It’s fun to explore. There’s no going back to the start, so we just keep on playing. Adding, rearranging. Creating motifs and flourishes. Finding strength in the pianissimo and tenderness in the forte.

In every class, the teacher will ease you into practice, allowing time for your body to adapt to the flow and temperature of the room. No class is exactly the same, but overall, you can expect emphasis on mindful movement, mobility, alignment, breathwork, and drishti—a focused gaze—cultivating a sense of presence and awareness on the mat. Our focus on breath allows you to deepen your practice, quiet the mind, and experience a profound sense of relaxation and inner peace. You’ll be encouraged to listen to your body, honor its limitations, and explore your edge with compassion.