Intention: Reclaiming Meaning in Practice
February Gathering of The Listening Space - February 1, 2026 @ 12:45
When we talk about intention in yoga, it’s often framed as something we do at the beginning of practice—a pause, a reflection, a clearly named focus before we start to move. But that isn’t always how practice unfolds.
Often, when we begin, we don’t stop to formally “set an intention.” And that’s okay.
In many breath-centered yoga practices, the intention is already there—quiet, steady, and often unspoken. We orient toward the breath. We notice distraction and gently return. We practice listening. This ongoing act of returning is an intention, even if we never name it out loud.
So intention-setting isn’t always about adding something new at the beginning of class. Sometimes it’s about bringing awareness back to something that’s already present.
Still, there are moments when practice starts to feel disconnected—when we’re moving without really feeling, or effort replaces attention. When that happens, consciously naming an intention can help us reclaim meaning and reconnect with why we practice in the first place.
Why Intention Matters (Especially When We Feel Stuck)
Movement on its own is not meaningless. The body moving, breathing, responding—that already has value. But when practice begins to feel mechanical or habitual, we can slip into a mode of doing that emphasizes momentum and output over curiosity. It can start to resemble jumping around on the mat like an aerobics competition in the 1980s—lots of motion, plenty of effort, but oriented toward execution rather than inquiry. Yoga asks for a different quality of presence.
Not just attention, but listening. Not just effort, but relationship.
In those moments when practice feels flat or disconnected, intention acts less like a rule and more like a reorientation.
Rather than asking, “Am I doing this well?”, we shift toward, “What am I noticing?” and, “How am I relating to this experience?”
Setting or clarifying an intention can help us:
Reclaim curiosity when practice feels habitual
Shift from performance toward inquiry
Notice patterns of striving, avoidance, or checking out
Restore a sense of purpose when we feel plateaued
Sankalpa: Intention in Yogic Philosophy
In yogic teachings, intention is often discussed through the concept of sankalpa. Sankalpa is sometimes translated as a heartfelt intention or inner resolve. Rather than pointing toward external achievement, it speaks to alignment—remembering what matters beneath the surface of effort and form.
In classical contexts, sankalpa is not about fixing ourselves or becoming someone else. It’s about remembering our deeper orientation and values. It’s a quiet commitment to awareness rather than a demand for change. Importantly, sankalpa is not a goal. It’s something we return to, again and again.
Intention Doesn’t Have to Be Profound
Another common misconception is that intention-setting needs to be deep, poetic, or life-altering. It doesn’t. An intention can be very simple:
To feel the breath more clearly
To move with steadiness
To soften when effort appears
To stay present when discomfort arises
To listen rather than push
These kinds of intentions don’t add pressure—they create clarity. They give us a reference point when the mind wanders or the body resists.
Instead of asking, “Am I doing this right?”, we begin to ask, “Am I connected?”.
Intention as a Way Back to Ourselves
One of the most powerful aspects of intention is how it links practice to life off the mat. When our intention relates to how we are being rather than what we are accomplishing, we start to notice familiar patterns. How we respond to challenge. How we meet frustration. How easily we override our own signals—or listen to them.
In this way, intention becomes a bridge:
Between breath and movement
Between awareness and action
Between the mat and daily life
Practice becomes less about doing more and more about paying attention.
A Few Gentle Prompts
If it feels supportive, you might reflect before or during practice:
What feels most present for me today?
What quality would be helpful to emphasize right now?
How do I want to relate to effort, sensation, or distraction?
How might this way of practicing support me beyond the mat?
There’s no need to search for the “right” answer. Often, the simplest response is enough.
A Closing Reflection
Intention is not something we must always formalize or declare. Often, it’s already alive in the act of returning to the breath, again and again. But when practice starts to feel disconnected, naming an intention can help us come back—not to a perfect practice, but to ourselves. And from that place, movement can regain meaning.
Not because we forced it—but because we remembered to listen.
The Listening Space: February 1, 2026 @ 12.45