The wisdom of the middle path—and what five years of Kumbhak have taught us
A few days ago, news from Bengaluru left many people shaken. A 31-year-old runner collapsed and died during a marathon at Nandi Hills, with reports indicating a suspected cardiac arrest.
Such incidents naturally make us pause. Not because running is harmful—it isn’t. But because they remind us of a question we often forget to ask: When does effort stop being beneficial and start becoming excessive?
The lesson is not that running or exercise is inherently harmful. It is that every form of physical effort needs to be appropriate to the individual, the circumstances and the body’s capacity.
We live in a world that constantly celebrates pushing beyond our limits. Push harder. Go further. Don’t stop. Somewhere along the way, we have started believing that if something is good for us, more of it must be better.
But Ayurveda and Yoga offer us a different understanding: the wisdom of the middle path.
The wisdom of moderation
युक्ताहारविहारस्य युक्तचेष्टस्य कर्मसु ।
युक्तस्वप्नावबोधस्य योगो भवति दुःखहा ॥
Yuktāhāra-vihārasya yukta-ceṣṭasya karmasu,
yukta-svapnāvabodhasya yogo bhavati duḥkha-hā.
“Yoga becomes the destroyer of suffering for one who is moderate in eating and recreation, balanced in action, and regulated in sleep and wakefulness.”
— Bhagavad Gita 6.17
Notice the word Yukta. It means appropriate, regulated, measured or balanced.
Krishna does not say, “Eat as little as possible,” “work as hard as possible,” or “sleep as little as possible.” The message is much simpler: do what is appropriate, in the right measure.
There is also a traditional Sanskrit principle:
अति सर्वनाशहेतुर्ह्यतोऽत्यन्तं विवर्जयेत्।
The essence is simple: excess can become the cause of ruin; therefore, avoid excess.
We understand this instinctively when it comes to food. A little of something we love may nourish us, but too much can leave us uncomfortable and unwell. Most of us learnt this lesson as children—usually after ignoring someone’s warning and eating far more than we should have!
But the same principle applies to much more than food. It applies to sleep, work, exercise, emotions and even our health practices.
Do not wrestle with your body
This is something we repeatedly tell our participants: Do not wrestle with your body.
When practising Kumbhak, don’t think, “If I hold my breath longer, I will get more benefit.” When stretching, don’t assume that going a little further or bending a little deeper automatically means better results.
Yes, effort is necessary. Without effort, nothing changes. But there is a difference between appropriate effort and excessive effort, and sometimes that difference is surprisingly small.
The boondi-laddu principle
Swamiji often explains this beautifully through the example of making a boondi laddu.
Imagine the boondi lying separately, each little piece scattered on its own. That is like our present condition when the body is disconnected, uncoordinated or structurally imbalanced. We need to bring those pieces together, and that requires effort.
We gather the boondi and apply a gentle pressure so that the pieces begin to hold together. That pressure is necessary.
But imagine applying too much force. Instead of becoming a laddu, the whole thing breaks apart again, and the boondi returns to its scattered state.
That is the paradox of excessive effort: the very force that was supposed to integrate can become the force that disintegrates.
This simple analogy captures something deeply important—not only about our practices, but about life itself.
The body responds to the right amount of effort
Our practices are designed around this understanding. We don’t want to conquer the body; we want to work with it.
There should be effort, but also ease. There should be challenge, but not struggle. There should be activation, but not exhaustion.
This is why we repeatedly tell participants to go slowly, stay within their comfortable range, and never force the breath or the movement. The body is not an obstacle standing between you and your goal. It is the instrument through which you experience the journey.
When health becomes a competition
Somewhere, even health has become competitive. How long can you hold your breath? How deep can you stretch? How many repetitions can you do? How much can you lift? How far can you run?
We begin comparing our bodies with other people’s bodies and forget one fundamental truth: every body has its own starting point, history and capacity.
Someone else’s limit cannot become your benchmark. And even your own previous capacity cannot always be assumed to be your present capacity. The body changes, age changes, stress changes, sleep changes, and life changes.
The intelligent practitioner therefore keeps asking: “What is appropriate for my body today?”
The middle path is not laziness
There is another misunderstanding about moderation. The middle path does not mean doing as little as possible.
If the body needs strengthening, we must make an effort. If mobility needs to improve, we must practise. If breathing needs to be trained, we must practise consistently.
The boondi cannot become a laddu without pressure.
Effort is essential. But the pressure has to be just enough.
Too little, and nothing comes together. Too much, and it falls apart. That is the middle path.
This is where the magic of Kumbhak Kriyas lies
Perhaps this is also why so many people discover Kumbhak Kriyas only after they have tried many other things.
They don’t necessarily come to us as their first choice. They come after years of living with a chronic condition, after trying medicines, exercises, therapies, yoga, fitness routines and countless other approaches. Sometimes they arrive simply because they are ready to try something different.
And then they discover something unexpected.
The magic is not in forcing the body to do more. The magic lies in how the body is approached.
Our therapeutic practices bring together subtle movements, breath, mudras, marma points and carefully designed sequences. Each element has a purpose, but it is the way these elements work together—and the way effort is applied—that makes the practice so different.
The movement may appear simple and the effort may appear gentle. But when the practice is done with awareness and the right amount of force, it can become a very different experience—one that invites attention, participation and gradual adaptation.
Sometimes, the gentleness is precisely what makes the practice powerful.
Five years—and a reason to celebrate
Over five years of teaching these practices online, this has become one of our deepest learnings.
More than 13,000 lives have been touched through our programmes. Many people came to us after trying several other approaches, often after years of living with pain, stiffness, reduced mobility or chronic conditions.
What they discovered was something very simple: The body does not always need more force. Sometimes it needs the right force.
Sometimes it needs rhythm. Sometimes it needs patience. Sometimes it needs rest. And sometimes it simply needs us to stop fighting with it.
As AVISA completes five years, this is something we feel deeply grateful for.
Five years of teaching these practices online. More than 13,000 lives touched. Thousands of stories of people finding greater ease, mobility, strength and hope while living with conditions they had struggled with for years.
Many came looking for one more possibility after trying almost everything else.
And perhaps that is the greatest validation of the middle path.
It is not about being the strongest. It is not about doing the most. It is about finding what is right for your body—and doing it consistently, intelligently and with awareness.
Five years ago, we began this journey with a simple belief—that the body has an extraordinary capacity to respond and adapt when approached with the right understanding.
Today, we celebrate not how much we have made people do, but how many people we have helped discover what their bodies are capable of doing without fighting them.
Don’t push your body. Partner with it
So the next time you practise, perhaps don’t ask, “How much more can I do?”
Ask instead, “How much is enough for my body today?”
If you are holding the breath, don’t chase a number. If you are stretching, don’t chase another person’s range. If you are strengthening, don’t chase exhaustion.
Find your comfortable edge. Work there. Allow the body to adapt, and slowly that edge will move.
That is sustainable progress. That is intelligent effort. That is the wisdom of Yukta.
And perhaps that is what the ancient wisdom was trying to tell us all along:
Not too little. Not too much. Just enough.
Because sometimes, the force that brings the boondi together is exactly the same force that can break it apart.
The art lies in knowing how much force to use.
Five years of finding the right force
Five years ago, we began this journey with a simple belief—that the body has an extraordinary capacity to respond and adapt when approached with the right understanding.
Today, with more than 13,000 lives touched, we celebrate not how much we have made people do, but how many people we have helped discover what their bodies are capable of doing without fighting them.
That, for us, is the real magic of Kumbhak.
The magic of the right effort.
The magic of the middle path.
The magic of working with the body, not against it.
