Burnout is one of the most pressing health issues in our society today, with studies showing it has a significant impact on millennials. As mental health becomes increasingly prominent in the pop culture landscape, yoga practitioners are taking the time to contextualize their mental health within the practice.

Citta (the mind) is the true forest of the practice, where we learn to navigate a treacherous inner landscape in order to rise into a lighter, clearer awareness. As Patanjali describes in The Yoga Sutras, the purpose of yoga is to transcend these fluctuations of the mind. His globally renowned book was the catalyst for my own recovery journey, transforming my relationship with yoga from a mere physical practice into a philosophical framework that now structures my life. It helped me shift from feeling like an overworked, undervalued cog in the machine to a purpose-driven, loved spirit — an integral part of the collective.

Here’s how I’ve used Patanjali’s yamas and niyamas — the first two of his eight limbs of yoga — as a catalyst and framework for my burnout recovery.

YAMAS

The yamas address our ethical standards and sense of integrity — essentially, how we show up in community. When reflecting on how to work with the first yama, ahimsa (nonviolence), I chose to take a pause. Continuing to show up in my community haphazardly and ungrounded no longer felt safe, prudent or wise.

Taking medication was my practice of satya (truthfulness) — being honest with myself about what I needed in order to show up well. After years of chasing wellness hacks to bypass the true magnitude of my situation, wisdom settled in. I finally understood that the hard work of therapy and medication was not an admission of failure but a proclamation of courage, radical acceptance and honesty.

Stepping back embodied asteya (non-stealing). In a world that demands constant visibility and performance, it can feel like we must always be “on.” But life is not a performance. It’s okay not to be okay. In these moments, it’s essential to remember that a baseline of wellness is needed to meaningfully take up space in community. Tending to your own garden before giving yourself to the world isn’t selfish — it preserves energy for both you and others. Don’t fear missing out. What’s meant for you will not pass you by.

Abstaining from sex was a personal expression of brahmacharya (celibacy or wise use of energy). I chose to focus on healing and reconnecting with myself before engaging in intimacy. It felt safe and aligned.

Finally, aparigraha (non-possessiveness) meant putting aside the pressures of worldly pursuits to prioritize my wellness. That wasn’t an easy decision. Modern life often dictates our values for us. But choosing to define my own required bravery — and it continues to be an act of reclamation.

NIYAMAS

The niyamas guide us in self-discipline and spiritual observance — how we care for and relate to ourselves on the path. This is where I paused to reassess my life, beliefs and goals, creating systems of daily rituals and practices that offered both structure and spiritual grounding.

Saucha (cleanliness) began with cleansing my inner world. My thoughts were on a constant loop of stress, anxiety and self-invalidation. To purify this mental chatter, I turned to daily mantras, mindfulness meditations, therapy and medication — tools that helped me move through the friction of my mind and begin to befriend it.

Samtosa (contentment) asked me to accept my life as it was, not as I wished it to be. At some point, you have to simply get on with the show and choose to love who and what you are. The keyword in this observance is choice. I began practicing gratitude not as a trend but as a lifeline, learning to see sufficiency in my current state.

Through tapas (discipline or spiritual heat), I connected to my body. I incorporated fasting and daily asana (poses) as sacred rituals — practices that brought my physical form into sharper focus and served as a reminder of my resilience and presence.

Svadhyaya (self-study and study of spiritual texts) became an anchor. Engaging daily with yogic and Buddhist scriptures helped affirm and root my evolving beliefs in something deeper. This wasn’t about abstract “woo-woo” — it was about cultivating wisdom dense in meaning, practical in application and expansive enough to move me from seeker to grounded practitioner.

Isvara pranidhana (surrender to a higher power) taught me to release both my joy and my grief. Life offers us both. I have found that surrendering both that which makes me cry and smile instills a sense of peace and certainty that cannot be rivaled. No matter who or what you are surrendering to, the practice itself is liberating. It softens the ego and opens the heart.

Brooke Doaks
Writer, MA Yoga Studies, Yoga Teacher
@yoginibrookedoaks
themindbodybodymind.blog

Originally published in the winter + spring 2025-26 issue of Well.