From Resistance to Recognition: My Journey with Kundalini Yoga

Introduction

The first of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras is Atha Yoga Anushasanam, usually translated as “And now, the teachings of yoga.”

I like those first two words: and now. Because I think there are moments in life when something invites us to pay attention, when we feel drawn towards something we don't quite understand yet. Sometimes it happens through pain, sometimes through the desire to connect with something bigger than ourselves, and sometimes because, even though everything might look fine from the outside, we feel we have lost touch with something important.

There are as many ways for this calling to show up as there are people on this planet. For some, it is a search for meaning. For others, it is the desire to recover a sense of inspiration, creativity, love, or simply the feeling of being alive again.

I believe we all experience these moments. The interesting part is what happens next, because sometimes the very thing that could open a new path for us is the thing we are most tempted to dismiss.

In my case, that moment came through pain, and it eventually led me to Kundalini Yoga.

My Calling

In 2004, I lost my youngest brother, and grief changed my life in ways I could never have imagined. It was also the year I moved from Venezuela to Spain to begin a life abroad, and the year I got married and chose to spend the rest of my life with Daniela.

There was so much happening. I was excited about the life we were building, hopeful about the future, and scared of all the uncertainty that came with such big changes. But underneath all of that, I was carrying the grief, pain, and anger of losing my brother. It followed me everywhere and affected the way I experienced everything else.

I didn't really know how to deal with it, so I tried to escape it. I kept going, kept myself busy, and looked for ways to avoid facing what I was feeling. It didn't work. In fact, things got worse.

When I think about that time, I remember a line from Ryan Holiday: “Name one thing that improves left unattended.” It's a simple idea, but one I learned the hard way. Leaving something unattended doesn't make it go away.

Around that time, Daniela began practising Kundalini Yoga. She had her own challenges, but I started noticing that something about her was changing. There was a difference in the way she approached life, and I became curious about it.

We talked, and eventually decided that I would join her for a Sadhana, the early morning practice of Kundalini Yoga.

I remember that morning very well.

The Morning I Almost Walked Away

My ego and resistance were having a great time. I was complaining about having to wake up so early, making fun of people who got up at that hour to practise yoga, and wondering what I was doing there in the first place.

Then I arrived at the yoga centre and found everybody dressed in white, some of them wearing turbans. That gave my ego even more material to work with. My head was as loud as a Metallica concert, and I was finding plenty of reasons to leave.

I almost turned around and walked out, but I stayed.

We started with the physical practice, which wasn't particularly interesting to me. I didn't enjoy it very much. But then came the chanting, with the whole group chanting together.

I didn't know what I was chanting or what the words meant. I was simply there, joining in, when something happened that I hadn't expected at all.

I began to cry.

It wasn't the kind of crying that comes from pain. It was more like a release, as if something I had been holding inside for years had finally found a way out. I felt as though I had arrived somewhere, as though I had finally given myself a moment to sit with what I was feeling instead of constantly trying to escape it.

Nothing in my life had changed in that hour. I hadn't stopped missing my brother, and I hadn't suddenly found answers to everything I was going through. But I had experienced something I couldn't explain, and I knew it mattered.

I remember leaving that class without really understanding what had happened, but with a very clear feeling that I needed to keep exploring this path.

From Resistance to Recognition

Looking back, that decision is one of the things I am most grateful for in my life. I genuinely believe it saved me years of suffering.

It would have been very easy to dismiss what had happened. I could have told myself that yoga wasn't for me, that the whole thing was strange, or that I had nothing in common with the people in that room. I could have allowed my resistance to win and gone back to doing what I had always done.

Instead, I chose to recognise that something meaningful had happened.

I didn't need to understand it. I didn't need to be certain that Kundalini Yoga was going to become such an important part of my life. I simply needed to acknowledge my experience and give myself the opportunity to explore it.

And I think there is something important in that distinction. Sometimes we feel drawn towards something, or we have an experience that touches us in a way we cannot quite explain. Our minds immediately start looking for reasons to dismiss it. We don't understand it, it feels unfamiliar, or it doesn't fit with the way we see ourselves.

Of course, not every feeling is a calling, and not every unfamiliar experience is worth following. But sometimes, beneath all that resistance, there is something worth paying attention to.

Einstein is often credited with saying that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Whether or not he actually said it, the idea makes sense to me. If the ways we have been trying to live or deal with our challenges haven't brought us where we want to be, perhaps it is time to explore another possibility.

For me, the important thing wasn't making a big decision that morning. It was staying long enough to recognise that something had happened, and being willing to find out what it meant.

We Get Used to Living a Certain Way

Another thing I learned is how resilient we are, sometimes to the point of getting used to our own suffering.

We adapt. We find ways to keep going, and that can be a wonderful thing when life gets difficult. But sometimes we become so accustomed to carrying something that we stop questioning whether we need to carry it in the same way.

We get used to feeling overwhelmed, disconnected, or uninspired. We continue with our responsibilities, and because we are managing, we assume that this is simply how life is.

I don't believe that everything difficult in our lives can be changed by making a different choice. We cannot control every circumstance, and we cannot undo what has happened to us. Losing my brother was something I had to learn to live with, not something I could change.

But I could change my relationship with that loss.

I still miss him deeply, but I no longer carry the same anger, and I have learned to live with my grief in a different way. The love is still there, but there is more room for the rest of my life.

Sometimes, the first step is simply recognising that the way we have been experiencing something doesn't have to remain the same forever. That recognition gives us a place to begin, even when we don't yet know what comes next.

We Don't Have to Do It Alone

There is one more thing I want to share, because it was an important part of my experience.

Although what I was going through was deeply personal, I didn't have to carry it entirely on my own.

I didn't suddenly start telling my yoga teacher everything that was happening in my life, and I wasn't crying in every class. What mattered was that I had found a space where I could practise and learn alongside other people who were also making time for themselves.

We were gathering to practise, to talk, and to learn about life together. It was different from our usual social interactions, where we might talk about work, responsibilities, or what needed to get done next. Here, there was room to pay attention to ourselves.

That sense of community had a profound effect on me.

You don't always need to explain what you are going through to benefit from being around people who are also trying to grow. Sometimes simply showing up, practising together, and giving yourself that time can make a difference.

This is one of the things I appreciate most about yoga. It is a personal journey, but it doesn't have to be a solitary one.

Closing: Listen to What You Recognise

After that first class, I enrolled in the Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training. I couldn't have imagined then how much that decision would influence my life or all the things that would unfold from it. Eventually, it led me towards work that feels meaningful and a way of living that is much more satisfying.

I still miss my brother, but I have learned to live with that loss differently. And I have learned how much can unfold from a single moment when we choose to pay attention rather than dismiss what we don't understand.

Your experience will probably be different from mine. Perhaps there is something you have been thinking about for a long time, or an idea you keep returning to even though you cannot explain why. Maybe you have encountered something that touched you, and part of you wants to explore it while another part is already coming up with reasons not to.

You don't need to rush into anything or assume that every impulse is pointing you in the right direction. But when something genuinely resonates with you, it is worth giving yourself the space to understand why.

For me, Kundalini Yoga became that path. It helped me reconnect with myself and find a different way of living with what had happened. That is why I wanted to share this story with you. Not because I believe everyone needs to follow the same path, but because sometimes an experience can show us something we hadn't been able to see before.

And that brings me back to Patanjali's first sutra, Atha Yoga Anushasanam: “And now, the teachings of yoga.”

I like to think of those words as an invitation to pay attention to what is happening in our lives right now. We don't always know where an experience will lead, and we don't need to have everything figured out. Sometimes we just need to recognise that something matters and be willing to explore it.

So the next time you feel that pull towards something you cannot quite explain, notice what happens. Your resistance might be loud, as mine certainly was that morning, but you can still choose to listen to what you recognise as meaningful.

You never know where that first step might lead, or how it might bring you closer to yourself and to the life you are here to live.

And now, yoga.