Yin yoga is a
slow-paced style of yoga that targets the body's deep connective tissues —
including fascia, ligaments, and joints. Unlike faster, more dynamic styles,
yin involves holding passive poses for extended periods, typically between 3 to
10 minutes. This prolonged stillness encourages deep relaxation, improved joint
mobility, and increased flexibility, making it especially beneficial for
calming the nervous system and gently releasing tension from the body.
I’ve tried just about every form of yoga under
the sun
When I was
diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis, I plunged headfirst into the world of
“gentle” exercise. Everyone — from my rheumatologist to well-meaning strangers
on TikTok — kept telling me: “Try yoga!”
But here’s what no one tells you
Not all yoga is
created equal.
And not all
yoga feels good when you live in a body that flares up or fatigues 90% of the
time.
For a long time, I thought I was doing it wrong
I’d roll out my
mat, press play on a beginner flow, and halfway through… my wrists would throb,
my hips would scream, my back would seize up. Even the so-called “gentle”
classes left me feeling defeated, more inflamed than before, and wondering how
this supposedly healing practice kept putting me in more pain.
Everything changed when I discovered Yin Yoga
What Makes Yin
Different
Yin yoga isn’t
about performance — it’s about presence.
It’s slow,
soft, supportive.
It doesn’t ask
anything of my body. Instead, it invites me to rest.
In yin, we hold
postures for 3 to 5 minutes (sometimes longer), targeting not the muscles, but
the deep connective tissues — the fascia, ligaments, and joints. Instead of
“activating your core” or “engaging your glutes,” yin asks the opposite: let
go. Surrender. Breathe.
Props are your
best friends — bolsters, blocks, blankets, pillows. You use them to fully
support your body in each pose. No pushing. No straining. No proving anything.
The practice isn’t about flexibility or strength — it’s about creating comfort
and stillness. If a shape hurts? You skip it or adapt it.
That’s the
magic. In Yin, I feel safe.
Chronic Pain and the Need for Nervous System
Support
Living with psoriatic arthritis means constantly negotiating with my body. Some days, just walking to the kitchen feels like climbing Everest. The inflammation, the stiffness, the deep bone aches — they’re all part of my daily landscape.
But one of the
sneakiest triggers of all?
Stress.
A stressful day
at work? My hands lock up.
Emotional
overwhelm? My spine flares.
My body is like
an over-sensitive alarm system — one spark of stress, and everything lights up.
That’s where
Yin yoga goes beyond the physical. It becomes a nervous system reset.
When I settle
into a yin pose, my breath slows. My mind softens. That buzzing, flaring body
of mine begins to quiet. It’s one of the only ways I’ve found to gently switch
off the chronic fight-or-flight mode I live in.
The Fascia Factor: Melting from the Inside Out
One of the
lesser-known benefits of yin yoga is its effect on fascia — the connective
tissue web that surrounds our muscles and organs. For those of us with
autoimmune conditions or chronic inflammation, fascia can become stiff, sticky,
and inflamed… making it hard to move, stretch, or even sit comfortably.
Yin doesn’t
force fascia to release — it coaxes it. Slowly. Gently. Through stillness and
time.
When I stay in
a supported posture long enough, my fascia starts to melt. That softening
ripples outward—the pain quiets. The tension loosens. It feels like I’m
exhaling from the inside out.
Yin yoga
doesn’t require me to be fit, flexible, or strong. It meets me exactly where I
am — even when I’m in bed, even during a flare, even when I feel like a statue
made of concrete.
No Strain, No Sweat — Just Deep Support
I often chuckle
when someone asks, “But does Yin yoga count as real exercise?”
No, I don’t
break a sweat.
I don’t torch
calories.
I don’t finish
class sore or shaky.
But what do I feel?
Held. Grounded.
Rested. Like I’ve finally given my body what it truly needed.
It’s not
flashy. But it’s healing.
And unlike
traditional exercise, it helps me build balance and gentle mobility in my
joints, without asking anything in return.
When I lie on
my mat—bolster under my back, pillows under my knees, blanket over my feet — it
feels like my entire body is whispering:
“Finally. Thank
you.”
My Yin Practice Today
I try to
practice yin a few times a week — even just 15 minutes makes a difference. I
keep a dedicated corner in my living room with props ready to go. I dim the
lights, play soft instrumental music, and sink in.
My go-to poses
Supported
Child’s Pose with a bolster under the chest
Reclined
Butterfly with pillows under the knees
Caterpillar
Pose (seated forward fold) with lots of support
Legs Up the
Wall, especially helpful for fatigue and swelling
There are no
rules. If a pose doesn’t feel good one day, I skip it. If I only manage one
posture, that’s enough.
Yin has taught
me that doing less can sometimes be the most healing thing.
Final Thoughts:
Listening to Your Body, Not Forcing It
If you live
with chronic illness or pain, you’ve probably heard it a thousand times:
“Movement is
medicine.”
But what no one says out loud is
The kind of
movement matters.
And so does how
it makes you feel.
Yin yoga is the
first practice that made me feel like my body wasn’t broken. That even in pain,
my body deserved care. It’s not about pushing through. It’s about softening
into exactly where you are.
If you’ve
struggled with other types of yoga, I see you. I’ve been there.
But don’t give
up on the practice just yet.
Yin yoga is
different.
It’s kind.
It’s patient.
And for me,
it’s been one of the most supportive tools in navigating life with chronic
pain, autoimmune disease, and emotional burnout.
I may not be
twisting into pretzels or flowing through sun salutations.
But I am
learning to listen to my body, to support my joints, and to rest my nervous
system.
And honestly?
That feels like
the most radical kind of healing there is.
In Case You’re
New to Yin
If you’re just
discovering this practice, here’s a quick overview: Yin yoga is a slow,
meditative style of yoga that focuses on stretching and lengthening deep
connective tissues like fascia, ligaments, and joints. Poses are held for
extended periods — usually between 3 to 10 minutes — allowing the body to fully
relax and release. Unlike faster yoga styles that focus on movement and muscle
strength, yin creates space for stillness, surrender, and nervous system
restoration.
And maybe that’s what I love most about it
It’s not about
pushing, fixing, or achieving. It’s about allowing.
It’s about
showing up in your body as it is — tender, tired, healing — and saying, “You
are enough.”
Yin yoga didn’t just help me stretch
It helped me
soften.
And in a body
that lives with chronic pain, that kind of softness feels like the deepest
strength of all.
Please Do not enter or write any type of Spam link in comments section.