For my 29th birthday (back in December), I decided I wanted to gift myself with a yoga nidra session. Luckily, I have a friend who is experienced and trained in nidra, hypnosis, and medical psychology/psychotherapy. She and I practiced asana together a good bit before I found out she was a teacher herself with this kind of experience. I reached out asking if we could do a private session.
I don’t have much knowledge of nidra except for the brief gloss-over we did in RYT-200 training, which included a script and some background information about guided imagery and visualization. Aside from that and listening to meditations on apps to help me fall asleep, I didn’t really know what to expect. I was hoping for relaxation, a little reset to welcome this new year of life, and, if I’m being honest, maybe some insightful revelations to magically occur.
Nidra is the Sanskrit word for sleep – specifically, a deep, dreamless sleep (Sutra I.10), where there is an absence of chitta vrittis (changing states of the mind), and consciousness is only “aware of the dense, motionless, darkness of tamas in which it is enveloped”1. Let’s back up to the first few Sutras of Patanjali to get some more context of why this state of consciousness is useful.
I.2 Yoga is the stilling of the changing states of the mind (or cessation of thought)
This sutra has a lot to unpack from yogic philosophy defining purusa (soul/awareness/consciousness) and prakrti (everything else that exists, “matter”); the citta, or psyche (intelligence, the ego, and the mind); the gunas (rajas, tamas, and sattva); and how these things interact with each other. Essentially, the goal of yoga is to find samadhi, where purusa is only aware of purusa.
I.3 When that (i.e., stilling) is accomplished, the seer abides in its own true nature
The yogi is able to separate its true nature (purusa) from the mind, detaching one’s identity from the ever-fluctuating thoughts and feelings (prakrti) that are byproducts of samskaras.
Sleep is still considered a vritti in yogic philosophy, as it “bind[s] consciousness to the world of matter,” and is not the same cessation of thought in a wakeful meditative state described in I.2; therefore, is not a direct path to samadhi, but it does promote the release of rajastic and tamasic samskaras, bringing more sattva (balance and clarity) into the yogi’s life.
Yoga nidra is not the practice of sleep. Rather, it is performed in a completely wakeful state – it is a “yogic sleep,” where the physical, and eventually the emotional body, can completely relax while maintaining consciousness. The process of yoga nidra is broken down into a series of steps to move the practitioner through a rotation of consciousness, or systematically bring awareness to each part of the body, and ultimately to deeper layers of the self. The pancha maya kosha model is a good tool to understand the five layers of the self (somewhat mirroring Maslow’s hierarchy of needs):
Annamaya kosha (physical body) – nidra will first coach you to bring awareness to your body parts, from the inside of your mouth to the inner ear, to each finger and toe, usually beginning with one side of the body and then starting over on the other side. This begins to activate the felt sense.
Pranamaya kosha (energetic body) – if prana (energy) didn’t give it away, nidra will start to move you toward your “subtle” body, by using breath awareness and control. Your guide may ask you to count backward from 27, 56, or another number using both your inhale and exhale.
Manomaya kosha (mental/emotional body) – this layer of self taps into imagination, emotions, and values. Your guide may lead you through a series of sensations that you call to mind using memories, or they may use imagery/storytelling to encourage visualization.
Vijnanamaya kosha (wisdom/spiritual body) – this layer of self encompasses intuition and belief patterns, and may be where greater levels of awareness can be found. Nidra practice over time may allow us find awareness here, or even in the last layer of self, the
Anandamaya kosha (bliss body) – our spiritual center, which is where stilling of the mind, nonattachment to our prakrti, and samadhi may be found. Nidra is unlikely to produce an awareness at this level of self, but can help us move through the other layers listed above to release samskaras that hinder us from finding pure awareness.
From a scientific point of view, yoga nidra has been adapted by the medical field to help soldiers fall asleep, coined the “military method,” which is an abbreviated practice of yoga nidra, using somatic awareness, breath control, and visualization to enter a state of relaxation, shifting the body into the parasympathetic nervous system. Many medical professionals and researchers are more openly encouraging meditation and similar practices to manage stress, treat depression and anxiety, improve quality of life, and increase longevity. Dr. Huberman, neurobiologist and researcher at Stanford University, has studied what he calls Non-Sleep-Deep-Rest, where the body enters recovery mode through deep relaxation, just as it would during deep sleep, but one remains awake through yoga nidra or hypnosis. While I can’t find a citation, it is a widely accepted statistic (in the yoga world at least) that a yoga nidra session is equivalent to a 3-4-hour nap!
In yoga, we use the word samskaras (grooves) to describe the patterns we repeat in our lives, usually stored as a subconscious fight or flight response that kept us safe at one time. The practice of yoga nidra is said to help release these samskaras without having to consciously deal with them. It is a way to address trauma without having to relive it. Yoga nidra has also been proven to successfully help trauma survivors regulate their nervous systems over time.
There is so much more to say about yoga nidra. Please note this was just meant to provide some background before telling you about my experience below.
As I arrived at my guide’s house, I was immediately enchanted by the low-hanging branches engulfing her driveway, yard tools strewn about, the aloof cat watching my every move. Inside appeared to be the set of a dreamy indie film or children’s storybook, with the most beautiful wooden floors I’ve ever seen, pre-civil war, she adds. Books piled high on every surface, plants growing in all directions, and a very grounded sense of love and care that permeated the extravagant design, pushing the boundaries of what one would imagine of the interior from the street. We set up in the back sunroom that is filled with light and warmth. I brought my mat and a blanket, but she offered a bolster under my knees, folded blankets under each elbow, and an eye pillow. Yoga nidra is typically practiced lying down in a supine position for 45-50 minutes. While you may be able to lie flat in a 3- to 6-minute savasana in yoga class, be ready to accept as many props as are available for yoga nidra so that all pressure points are supported – I should have placed a pillow under my head (more on that later). She talked me through what to expect, and said it was ok if I fell asleep (that just meant my body needed it), but to try to stay awake, and we quickly got started.
I began lying down and “settling in,” adjusting my body until I was in a comfortable position and setting a sankalpa: “I am loving and open.” She started leading me through the bodily awareness cues. It took me several minutes to finally surrender here. I was in a new place I had never been before, and even though logically I believed I was safe, I only knew my guide in one, somewhat formal capacity (in yoga class at a studio), and here I was intimately lying on her floor with my eyes closed, so I could feel my body holding a little tension at first; when this tension would stir up, I would come back to the sankalpa. After probably 10 minutes I really felt my body let go and I don’t remember the length of time or specific exercises we did from then on; rather, I recall pieces of the practice, like her asking me to count backward from 56 (inhale 56, exhale 56, inhale 55, exhale 55). I was immediately irked by this when cued and found it tedious, but just as it was becoming annoying, I started feeling calm and peaceful, so entranced with and connected to my breath (discomfort always proceeds bliss – a lesson humans never seem to grasp fully, so we suffer repeatedly). I recall her leading me through opposite sensations (light and heavy, cold and hot, pleasure and pain). I recall her asking me to imagine walking through the neighborhood, seeing faces of family and friends.
Before I knew it, she was telling me to gently bring awareness back to my body and make small movements. I could barely sense my legs, and I could not feel my arms at all! It felt like floating, but the only piece holding me back was the sensation of my head on the mat, which I was unaware of to start but almost in pain by the end due to that one pressure point! I’m a little glad I still had awareness of my head on my first round, because I think it may have been a little scary fully immersed in this state, but next time I will have my head elevated. I did notice a couple of times throughout practice, my right hip would twitch just a little. I would notice it and then try not to bring any attention to it, try not to move, and keep breathing. She said she saw it twitch a few times too, and that probably just means I store a little bit of trauma there. I’ve always had less flexibility in my right hip (e.g., pigeon/mermaid/hand to big toe pose) and have had a couple of physical things going on with it that have called for chiropractor visits, so it makes sense. It was a great example for me of how trauma might move through the body without the mind having to know which or what trauma it’s related to – no need to relive the specific experience, just move it out!
Following the practice I drove home in a bit of a stupor, like waking up from the best nap of my life, and tried to journal first thing. I wrote “I feel like me! Lighter, happier, more grounded. It makes me want to do everything out of abundance”. I had texted her, “I feel very like myself in an uncluttered way.” I was experiencing Sattva flooding my life, balancing the rajastic energy from which I am typically functioning.
What’s even more is the synchronicity of it all. Sure, I planned it on my birthday and I wanted to be relaxed going into the Christmas holiday, so maybe that was a little forced (correction: intentional), but not really...not when I tell you that the next morning I took a positive pregnancy test! I had written in my journal entry (maybe TMI), “I hope this deep relaxation will cue my period to start as it’s a couple of days late and I’ve had intense PMS.” My cycle always varies by a few days, my symptoms were the same as always, and I had no reason to buy a test at the store on my way to work the next morning – I just had a bit of an urge to do so. From my previous posts I’m sure you’ve picked up on my not-so-subtle desires to be a mom, but how I grapple with the responsibility of it all. Just hours before receiving this life-changing news, my yoga nidra session prepared me to be loving, open, connected to my higher/truer self, and ready to accept this responsibility with clarity and calm - and I don’t believe that to be coincidence. I’m not saying meditation or nidra or any practice will magically produce something you want, but I do think the universe is always looking out for me, and that being a conscious creator is what allows things to align in the most surprising and fun ways.
“What we can truly be with, we ultimately transcend” - James Reeves
Bryant, E. 2009. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: A New Edition, Translation, and Commentary. New York: North Point Press.