This week we’ve been in deep reflection on relationships, exploring how the teachings of the Yoga Sūtras—particularly Yoga Sūtra 2.20—can guide us toward more conscious, connected, and compassionate ways of relating. Each day has brought a new lens through which to understand ourselves and those closest to us, always returning to the question: how can we see more clearly?
On day one, we began with the inquiry: “How are you showing up in your relationships?” This question, though simple, invites a profound pause. Am I reactive, distracted, or performative—or am I showing up from a space of presence and authenticity?
On day two, we asked: “Are you moving from clarity or conditioning?” Are your actions rooted in your cultural or familial conditioning, or your personal trauma? Am I responding from my capital-S Self, or am I lost in the moment, tangled in kleśas like fear and attachment?
On day three, things got personal. We turned the light inward and asked: “Is this really, really, really about them?” OR, is this me projecting my fears, or anxieties? Often, when we complain or fight, the root of our emotion has less to do with the person in front of us and more with old, recycled narratives from the mind—what the Yoga Sūtras call citta vṛttis (mental fluctuations). We remembered Yoga Sūtra 1.2:
yogaś citta-vṛtti-nirodhaḥ
“Yoga is the stilling of the fluctuations of the mind.”
On day four, we entered the sacred territory of listening. We joked about the classic “Zip it!” line, but the message was real: pause, be quiet, listen deeply. In a world where everyone is talking, listening becomes an act of love. We were reminded that we don’t always have to fix, speak, or offer advice. Just being fully present is sometimes the most potent offering we can give.
All of these reflections are anchored in Yoga Sūtra 2.20:
dṛṣṭā dṛśi-mātraḥ śuddho 'pi pratyayānupaśyaḥ
“The Seer is pure seeing, yet though pure, appears to see through the mental impressions.”
This sutra reminds us of the dṛṣṭā, the Seer, our inner witness. It is not the mind, not our material things, not our emotions—it is the unchanging, pure awareness that observes all of it. However, because it sees through the lens of the mind, it often gets entangled in the drama of thought, feeling, and story.
Here’s the real work: we are not our stories. We are not our perfectionism, our wounds, or our reactions. There is a vast stillness within us that exists even in our most chaotic moments. We must cultivate this awareness.
We asked: how do we create emotional clarity? How do we reduce the amount of projecting we do, especially in our closest relationships? How do we stop placing our unresolved fears and insecurities onto the people we love most?
We also took a look at perfectionism. We affirmed that working toward excellence is healthy—even vital. But the insistence on being perfect is misery. It will exhaust you. It will destroy the beauty of your growth. So let’s hold our aspirations lightly—with care, not pressure.
And as we reflect on the week, we return to this anchoring thought:
“I am not my mind. I am the one who sees.”
This realization, if held and integrated into our daily practice within our relationships can becomes a superpower. It frees us from knee-jerk reactions. It lets us love more openly. It reminds us of who we truly are: not the mind, but the awareness behind it. This is yoga—not just on the mat, but in the living, breathing, messy reality of relationship.
