Yielding: The Graceful Dance Between Collapse and Control

Over 20 years ago, I curled up with Yoga Mind, Body & Spirit by Donna Farhi, a book that left a deep imprint on how I move through the world. At the time, it felt revolutionary. And yet, two decades later, I find myself circling back, not because I’ve regressed, but because growth, as we know, isn’t linear.

It’s a series of switchbacks.

Each return to familiar terrain reveals a slightly elevated view—more spaciousness, more nuance, more humility. What once felt like "basic principles" now ring out as profound truths. Lately, what’s calling to me is one of Farhi’s Seven Moving Principles: yielding.

“Yielding happens when we allow the surfaces that are in contact with the earth to give their weight to the earth. At the same time, we maintain enough integrity through our structure that we receive the rebound of gravity up through our bodies...”
— Donna Farhi

Yielding isn’t collapsing. It’s not checking out, giving up, or melting into the proverbial puddle. It’s also not propping—those moments when we over-effort, brace, control, and harden against life’s unpredictability.

Yielding is the middle path.
It’s participatory receptivity.

It asks:
Can you let the ground hold you, without losing yourself?
Can you soften your breath, without disengaging your power?
Can you be in relationship with the mat, with the earth, with a friend, with a trigger, without falling into collapse or defensiveness?

This shows up in our yoga practice when we allow ourselves to truly rest into a pose… and feel that moment when the floor seems to rise to meet us.

It shows up in conversation when we listen—listen—without retreating into silence or jumping in to fix.

It shows up in relationship when we’re present enough to soften our edges without erasing our own needs.

Yielding is the portal to that paradox where surrender becomes strength. Where giving weight creates lift. Where trusting the ground opens space for grace.

And perhaps, in these times where everything around us pushes for productivity, for answers, for certainty, yielding is one of the most radical acts we can choose.

It’s the pause that allows the breath to come back in.
It’s the reset of nervous systems that have been holding for far too long.
It’s what lets us feel again, and through that feeling, reconnect with our

Photo by Alessia Bosi on Unsplash

aliveness.

I'm committed to exploring this principle in my own life this month, in the way I move, the way I rest, the way I speak, the way I relate.
You’re warmly invited to do the same.

We’ll keep circling back, together.
Each pass just a little more grounded, a little more free.