Breaking Out of the Binary, Loosening our Grip on the Labels
Breaking Out of the Binary, Loosening our Grip on the Labels
Our yoga practice often mirrors our life, whether intentionally or spontaneously. Each time we step onto the mat, subtle lessons arise, reflecting truths about how we navigate the world. Take Drishti, the yogic concept of a single pointed gaze, as a perfect example. On one hand, focusing on one spot helps us find balance and stability. Yet if we fix our gaze too rigidly, we might struggle to move fluidly when it’s time to shift shapes or direction.
This paradox reveals something deeper. Just like our Drishti practice, we continually encounter binaries in daily life and yoga: male/female, left/right, victim/villain, liberal/conservative, good/bad, right/wrong. While these binary labels can offer clarity, structure, and meaning, do they really accommodate the messy complexity and fluidity of our lived experiences?
On the mat, strict adherence to alignment principles might initially feel supportive, but too much rigidity risks disconnecting us from yoga’s inherent invitation to explore, adapt, and authentically express ourselves. Consider Warrior 1, traditionally cued as, “front knee over ankle, back foot stepped back at an angle, hips squared, biceps by your ears” (I literally say all these things when teaching!). But what are we missing if we soften this rigidity, allowing arms to float naturally or rest gently at the heart? At that point, some might ask, "Is this even Warrior 1 anymore?" Perhaps a more provocative and meaningful question is: "Does it actually matter?"
When I remember that ancient yogic texts like the Upanishads don’t actually prescribe physical alignment or even mention asana practice in a physical sense, I begin to question where these labels and rules come from, and why we cling to them. This reflection inevitably leads to deeper inquiries: Who creates these labels, and why? Who sets the rules, and who benefits from them?
Alignment cues and labels offer structure, clarity, and consistency, yes, but they also carry implicit assumptions about correctness, worthiness, and belonging. By accepting certain rules as authoritative, we may unknowingly reinforce hierarchies and power dynamics that prioritize conformity over authentic self exploration. Labels and rules can serve to protect us, ensuring that we practice safely; yet they can also limit us, defining how we "should" move, feel, and identify ourselves. Who decides when a yoga pose has deviated too far from tradition? Who holds the authority to determine what’s right or wrong, appropriate or inappropriate? Does the yoga pose itself really need the label to be meaningful, or is the meaning something we ourselves attach, something subjective, fluid, and evolving?
These questions matter deeply, not just on the mat but beyond it. If our attachment to labels, rules, and categories shapes our physical yoga practice, imagine how profoundly these same attachments influence our identities and lived experiences off the mat. Perhaps it is not the labels themselves, but our attachment to them, that holds the key to understanding why we rely on them. Do these labels truly help us better understand ourselves and each other, or do they instead create divisions and hierarchies, subtly enforcing separation rather than unity?
With these reflections in mind, I recently had the chance to speak to a group of high school students about the paradox of identity. I challenged them to examine their most cherished “I am” statements to discover whether these labels limit them, liberate them, or both. I shared a few of my own identities: “I am a mother,” “I am a teacher,” “I am a woman,” “I am the oldest daughter,” “I am (was) a teen mom.” Together, we reflected on how these identities might simultaneously restrict and empower me.
The students responded with striking openness. Eyes brightened with insight, and soon they courageously shared their own "I am" statements. It quickly became clear that they already carried within themselves the essence of the teaching.
Identifying as “straight” provides both boundaries and liberation, creating meaning and structure. Similarly, identifying as “queer”, “female” “male” “trans” or with any other label also yields structure, meaning, liberation, and limitation. Who decided what these labels mean? Are the meanings ubiquitous? What happens if we release attachment to these identifiers? Do we lose meaning or authenticity? Or perhaps, do we gain a richer experience of self?
One of my dear friends, an elderly man who has shared a loving partnership with his male partner for longer than I've been alive, refuses the label “gay.” Instead, he simply identifies as “alive.” What a profound teacher he is! He once explained to me that labels and the meanings attached to them often change without our consent. He explained he preferred authenticity over categorization in every moment. He even rejected being called a "hippie," aligning instead with the timeless ideals of love and peace, wisely reminding me, “You never know what ‘hippie’ will mean in 20 years.” Of course, it is also not lost on me that openly identifying as "gay" forty years ago could have carried significant risk for him, yet his words still carry deep wisdom.
Nondual Tantra offers a profound philosophical context for this discussion. Rooted in the understanding that beneath every apparent difference or label lies one unified, pulsation of power and creation (Shakti), Tantra reminds us that all identities and labels are momentary expressions, not absolute truths.
From this Tantric viewpoint, rather than chasing the illusion of safety or certainty labels promise, we can intentionally cultivate spaces of vulnerability, authenticity, and presence. Embodying a Tantric world view doesn't demand that we discard labels entirely; rather, it offers the suggestion to hold them lightly, recognizing they are fluid, provisional, and expressive, not definitive or restrictive.
The Vijnana Bhairava Tantra, a cornerstone of Kashmir Shaivism, emphasizes precisely this point.
“Remain firm in one’s understanding that a small part of anything, with a name, is a tempting illusion. Thus, the primary quality of ones true nature in unity, from this understanding one will not remain separate any longer. - Note: this text is part of Tantra Shaivism rather than Tantra Shaktism, however, it is still potent, relevant and meaningful.
Radical Practice Challenge
This month, I invite you to step onto your mat differently. Consciously set aside your labels, expectations, and even the desire for a perfectly predictable or safe space. Instead, directly experience your practice moment to moment, as sensations, breath, and movement flowing through you. Rather than identifying as a particular “type” of yogi (advanced, beginner, pregnant, injured), approach your practice as pure, pulsating consciousness exploring itself.
Then reflect honestly:
How does your practice shift when you step outside of labels of teacher, experienced, advanced?
Does your experience become richer, more complex, messier, or even more joyful when you allow yourself simply to be?
When you release the expectation of a perfectly safe or controlled space, can your practice transform into one of radical honesty and authentic exploration?
Ultimately, Nondual Tantra teaches us that our yoga practice and life itself isn’t about choosing one side of a binary or neatly categorizing our experiences. Instead, Tantra calls us beyond binary thinking, into a deeper recognition of the profound unity underlying all experiences.
True inclusivity and authentic self expression, through this lens, emerge when we understand that beneath every perceived difference is the vibrant energy of life, an infinite spectrum of possibility, pulsating through each of us in every moment.
When we break out of binary thinking, we don’t lose clarity, we gain freedom.