Divine in Yoga: Exploring Spirituality, History, and Meaning

Right in the heart of a packed yoga class, while everyone goes through the motions of downward dogs and warriors, there’s a question that hangs in the air, almost as thick as the incense: who or what exactly is the divine in yoga? Some people chant Om and imagine ancient gods watching over them. Others mumble prayers out of habit, not sure what or who they’re addressing. Yet for plenty, yoga feels like a secular gym workout that somehow leaves you with a weird sense of peace. So, is the divine a god, a force, or just a state of mind? Let’s pull apart the threads of yoga’s spiritual tapestry and see what’s really woven in.

Yoga’s Divine Origins: Ancient Roots and Modern Confusion

If you crack open an old yoga text—say, the Rig Veda, written at least 3,000 years ago in ancient India—you’ll find stories of gods like Indra, Agni, and Varuna. These deities weren’t just symbolic figures: ancient yogis believed their lives were tangled up with cosmic forces that shaped their destiny. God wasn’t some distant figure: the divine was woven into the sun, rivers, trees, and even your own breath.

Fast forward to the Upanishads, and you see the focus shift. Suddenly, “Brahman” takes centre stage. Instead of picturing a god with arms and a crown, Brahman is this absolute, formless reality. There are no shape, no name, just this vast cosmic truth. These old scribes talked about Atman, your inner soul. The wild part? They said you’re not separate from the divine, but actually part of it. “Tat Tvam Asi,” they wrote: “You are that.” Yoga became less about worshipping external gods, more about uncovering the invisible divinity inside your own heart.

Jump ahead a couple of thousand years. You land at the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the most quoted source in Western yoga classes. Patanjali mentions something called “Ishvara.” But get this—he doesn’t force a definition. For some, Ishvara means a personal god. For others, it’s an ideal, maybe wisdom itself. So right from the start, yoga gives you room to choose: do you see the divine as a being, a presence, or simply deep knowledge?

Look at yoga studios today. Some drape statues of Ganesh or Shiva in fairy lights. Others strip out the myth and focus on breathing. Science even shows that yoga helps reduce anxiety and lowers blood pressure (see the table below). The message: yoga’s divine core is ancient, flexible, and open to interpretation.

Different Faces of the Divine: Gods, Energies, and the Self

Ask ten yoga teachers about the divine and you’ll probably get ten pretty different answers. That’s because the idea of divinity multiplies across cultures, traditions, and personal experience. In India, yoga’s birthplace, the divine is often colorful, literally—think of the blue-skinned Krishna, the elephant-headed Ganesh, or the wild-eyed Shiva. These gods have outrageous backstories, wild adventures, and sometimes super-human moods. People chant their names and tell their stories to tap into their energy. For many, the divine is a relationship: you might feel closer to Lakshmi if you’re hoping for prosperity or call on Hanuman if you need courage. The gods are more like friends—or even family—than distant rulers in the sky.

But not everyone in yoga is looking for a literal god. Plenty of practitioners think about the divine as a force or energy. Ever heard someone say they “feel connected” after meditation? They might call that a brush with the divine. The entire idea behind Kundalini yoga, for example, is waking up a dormant energy at the base of your spine, which rises up through your body, unblocking chakras and bringing moments of bliss. No gods, no prayers, just energy and awareness.

Here’s the clever part. Even when yoga traveled outside of India, it shape-shifted. In Japan, Zen monks dropped the gods and focused on the present moment. In America and Europe, you have secular yoga classes that see the "divine" as something like a deep sense of peace, presence, or self-acceptance. According to a 2024 survey in Yoga Journal, 47% of British yoga practitioners said they didn’t relate to traditional gods or religious symbols—but most of them agreed that yoga helped them “feel something bigger than themselves.” That “something bigger” is up for interpretation—and that’s really the spirit of yoga.

So if you’re sitting in a London yoga class, silently breathing, you’re part of this vast experiment. Some around you might quietly pray to Vishnu for guidance, others are just focusing on not toppling over in tree pose, and a few might simply be grateful to not check their phones. All of that’s valid, all of it is space for the divine—however you see it.

How Philosophy Shapes Yoga’s Divine

What’s wild about yoga is that so much of what we do comes straight from India’s philosophical traditions—and those are packed with ideas about the divine. The most influential schools, or darshanas, each have their own take. Let’s line them up:

• Vedanta: This is the “you are the universe” school. The divine isn’t somewhere out there; it’s what you find if you look deep enough inside. Some forms, like Advaita Vedanta, say there’s just one absolute reality. You and the divine? Same thing. It’s both trippy and strangely comforting if you really think about it.
• Samkhya: Yoga’s spiritual cousin. It sees the world split into two: Purusha (pure consciousness) and Prakriti (everything else—the body, mind, nature). The divine is consciousness itself, not a personality. Yoga, to them, is untangling yourself from the drama of everyday life so you can see reality clearly.
• Bhakti Yoga: This one’s all about love and devotion. Imagine singing, chanting, or offering food to the gods. If special relationships fill you with meaning, this yoga is for you. For people on this path, the divine might look like Krishna, the goddess Durga, or even a formless love.
• Jnana Yoga: The most philosophical approach. The divine is truth, found through questioning and reason. Think of it as yoga for lovers of big questions and late-night debates—what’s real, who am I, and is there a god or not?
• Tantra: Often misunderstood in the West, Tantra says everything—right down to chocolate cake and heartbreak—is stamped with divinity. Through ritual (and yes, sometimes sex), the world’s juicy details become sacred.

Yoga’s different forms each have their own flavor. They all come back to the same big question: where does the divine live—in gods, in the cosmos, or inside us? And they all leave room for you to find your own answer.

Much of the ancient debate around the divine is in old texts—many tricky to translate. Take the Bhagavad Gita: it’s a conversation on a battlefield where Krishna (the god) tells his friend Arjuna to see divinity everywhere, even in the toughest choices. Indian philosophers like Adi Shankara argued for unity with Brahman, while others like Ramanuja embraced a personal, loving god. And every time yoga restarted in a new city or century, it carried those arguments along. As a result, no one can say the divine in yoga is just one thing—and maybe that’s the point.

Divine Practices on the Mat and Beyond

So, how do people actually experience the divine in yoga? You’d be surprised how many ways there are:

• Chanting: When people recite "Om" at the beginning or end of a session, that’s not just tradition. The sound is supposed to echo the vibration that started the universe, connecting everyone in the room (and beyond) to a universal presence. In India, a full "Om" chanted just right can leave you with the chills.
• Mantra Meditation: Some yogis pick a special word or phrase—often from Sanskrit—and repeat it in their mind. It might be a deity’s name, like "Ram" or "Durga," or just an aspirational phrase. The repetition isn’t about magic, but about focusing and steadying the mind. That quietness? That’s where many say divinity sneaks in.
• Mudras: Certain hand gestures are believed to help channel spiritual energy, like the iconic prayer pose or the thumb-to-index finger ring. They’re seen as little antennas, tuning you into cosmic radio.
• Breathwork (Pranayama): Breathing isn’t just about getting oxygen. Intentionally slowing and guiding your breath (like with alternate-nostril breathing) is thought to bridge your inner world with the divine. Studies show disciplined breathwork triggers a calming response—the mind gets quieter, and that “stillness” is where a sense of the sacred often grows.
• Silent Sitting (Samadhi): Advanced meditators, especially in the Indian tradition, aim for a state called Samadhi—a silence where the sense of being separate slips away. Many describe it as encountering pure awareness, or for some, the presence of the divine itself. There’s no way to explain it until you taste it—but for those who have, it leaves a deep impression.

Outside the mat, divine practices spill into daily life too. Lighting a candle, offering a flower, reading a poem from Rumi, even walking quietly through a green park—these can turn ordinary moments sacred. A 2023 study from King’s College London found that Londoners practicing yoga reported higher life satisfaction, especially when spiritual practices like mantra or silent prayer were included.

The secret? There is no single recipe. Whether you come with faith, curiosity, or even skepticism, yoga offers an open invitation. The divine, in this world, fits what you need at the moment, not the other way around.

Everyday Encounters: Finding (or Missing) the Divine

The language of “divine” can sound intimidating if you’re new to yoga, or if you’re allergic to religion. But in practice, it’s often less dramatic than you’d think.

Plenty of people have never seen the inside of a temple but find something sacred in a really good yoga class. There’s that silent collective sigh after savasana, the bit at the end when you say “Namaste” to your teacher, the feeling that, just for a second, everything makes sense. Maybe the only prayer you’ve ever uttered on the mat is for your phone not to ring, but that’s still a hope, a wish—one way to stretch toward the divine (even if all you get is silence).

Sometimes you’ll meet people who get flashes of inspiration during yoga—a sudden idea, a sense that things are connected, or just a rush of happiness. That can be the "divine" talking, in a language all its own. Other times, the experience is more ordinary—a sense of deep calm or just being present. That’s plenty, too.

• Tip: If you want to explore the divine side of yoga, start by noticing what moves you—maybe it’s a line from a chant, a sense of timelessness when you close your eyes, or the feel of your breath. Don’t force it. The point is to be open.
• Tip: If gods and rituals aren’t your thing, lean into moments of connection—helpfulness, gratitude, or caring for your body. The divine is as much about how you live as what you believe.
• Tip: If you’re curious about traditional forms, listen to teachers from India or read translations of the Upanishads or Gita. You’ll find there’s no exam or right answer.
• Tip: Keep a small notebook. Jot down moments when yoga felt different, or meaningful, even if you can’t explain why. Over time, you might notice a pattern.

The divine in yoga isn’t a person standing behind the curtain, nor is it always about cosmic fireworks or levitation. Often, it’s the quiet moments—the breath, the stillness between thoughts, or the feeling you’re part of something bigger than just your own worries. In the end, yoga hands you the map, but you get to draw in the details.