The 4 Ds of Ashtanga: An Ode to the Lineage

As I write this, it is a new moon day. The kind of day we don't roll out our mats. We pause. Not out of laziness or escape, but as a deep act of listening. Of honouring the natural rhythms that hold us, and the tradition that has been passed down with such care.

These moondays, when the breath slows and the doing softens, always invite reflection.

And this morning, in the quiet space of not practicing, I found myself thinking of Sharathji— his steady gaze, his voice echoing in the stillness of the Mysore shala. The quiet authority he carries and his unwavering presence.

I remember it clearly— during one of the conferences, someone asked him, “How do you keep going, even when the practice feels hard?”. He smiled gently and replied: “Discipline. Dedication. Determination. Devotion.”

Four words. Spoken simply. But they landed like a seed. The 4 Ds of the Ashtanga Yoga Lineage.

Sharathji didn't say much. But when he did, it landed like a stone dropped into still water. You felt the ripple long after the words have gone.

Over the years, Sharathji repeated them again and again—to hundreds of students.

Today, I want to honour that ripple. And the lineage it springs from. This post is for him, for the teachers who came before him, and for the living tradition that continues to hold, shape, and sometimes undo us—so we can meet ourselves anew.

Discipline: Returning, Day After Day

When I first arrived in Mysore, tired from a long drive from Goa and nervous, I remember watching Sharathji gently stride through the shala with quiet authority. There was no drama, no theatrics from him—just presence. One by one, hundreds of students straightened their backs. Voices softened to whispers in respect for our teacher.

He practiced before all of us. Held space for all of us for hours. Working such a busy Mysore Room is a feat in itself. He tirelessly adjusted hundreds of bodies and knew about each of our practice.

That was my first real lesson in discipline.

Not the kind that cracks a whip, but the kind that shows up. That returns. Day after day. Season after season. Year after year. That treats the practice not as something to conquer, but something to tend to - like a garden.

And slowly, I began to understand. Discipline is love in action.

This wasn’t about rigidity. It was about commitment. About understanding that the practice is not just what we do when life is easy, but how we carry ourselves when it’s not.

Discipline, I’ve learned from him, is not punishment. It’s devotion in motion. It’s showing up for yourself not because you want to master something—but because you’re willing to be with whatever arises when you try.

Discipline is the quiet courage to begin again, every single day.

Dedication: The Unseen Progress

The lineage teaches us that there’s no rush. That transformation doesn’t happen in a month—or even a year. It’s the work of a lifetime.

“Why you’re rushing? Don’t rush.”, Sharathji would say. He didn’t rush us or push us, but he believed in us.

His dedication wasn’t loud. It lived in the way he watched, the way he adjusted, the way he remembered your name, your breath, your story—even if you were one of a hundred in the room. And through his example, it is evident that the real work happens quietly. Day by day. Breath by breath.

It’s through daily repetition, quiet effort, steady breath—that something begins to shift. And often, it’s not what we expected. Sharathji reminded us not to chase results. To trust the process. To stay.

Dedication is not dramatic. It’s deeply personal. It’s the slow, silent shift from resistance to ease. From fear to breath. From effort to surrender.

Determination: The Gentle Kind

We often think of determination as fire. But in this lineage, I think it is earth. Sharathji’s strength isn’t in volume or force—it’s in rootedness.

There is a fire in the practice—but it’s not the kind that burns you out. It’s the fire that refines you & transforms you.

Sharathji held space for this fire—not through intensity or pressure, but through presence. Through stillness. Through unwavering faith in the student’s journey.

Even when we struggle, even when we fall, there was a stillness in the way he held space. A sense that there’s time. That you’ll find your way. He didn't have to say it out loud—you felt it in the room. That steady pulse of trust.

Determination is not force. It’s choosing to stay. To soften into the struggle. To listen. And to trust that even when nothing seems to be changing—everything is.

Devotion: A Living Lineage

What strikes me most is how deeply Sharathji embodied devotion. In his early morning chants. In the way he held this practice because it matters, but not for fame, not for power (although they came as by products). Because it was handed down to him by his grandfather, Pattabhi Jois. And it lives on through him. Through us.

There is something so sacred about being part of a lineage that has been kept alive through bodies, breath, memory.

In Mysore, you don’t just practice yoga. You enter into a relationship with something timeless. You carry it. And that is devotion.

A Bow to the Source

This practice is not mine.

It’s something I’ve inherited. Something I’m entrusted with.

Something I return to each day—not to conquer, but to receive.

And on this moonday, I bow.

To Sharathji—for his guidance, his steadiness, for teaching us that the real yoga is not in performance, but in presence.

For transmitting this fire with joy, strength, and laughter.

To all those who came before—and hopefully to those who come after.

Discipline. Dedication. Determination. Devotion.

They are not achievements. They are paths.

And I will keep walking—one breath at a time.

If this reflection resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you. Connect with me on Instagram, or drop me an email, or leave a comment——your experiences, stories, and questions are always welcome. You can also subscribe to the newsletter for more stories, insights, and practice support straight to your inbox.

And if you feel called to explore this journey more deeply, I’d be honoured to practice with you—check out the class schedule and sign up. Let’s stay connected, keep walking the path, and continue the conversation—on and off the mat.