Your Yoga + Recovery Secret Weapon: Santosha

Santosha is contentment.

Of course, it's much more than that. For those of us in recovery, it may be the practice we need most, because the opposite of contentment is wanting more. And if you're in recovery, you know all about more.

First, let's consult the yoga sutras.

There are a few ways to interpret these sutras and therefore yoga's view of what santosha, or contentment, means. The practice of contentment is important enough to be placed right up there with cleanliness, austerity, study, and devotion. These are the practices we do personally, or the niyamas, whereas the yamas are concerned with how we interact with others. Contentment is about how we are with ourselves.

How this relates to recovery

We grew into addiction due to a lack of contentment. We were seeking something we didn't have, some outside force, likely a substance, to make us content. We got high and drunk to dull an ache, a "something is missing" or "something is wrong with me" feeling. We often felt pain and we wanted it to stop, so we numbed it with a substance. We couldn't be content as we were; we couldn't sit with the pain.

So how do we find contentment in recovery now that we're substance-free and essentially raw-dogging life?

We all struggle with contentment in recovery. We always want the next thing. The next food delivery, the next notification on our phone, the next thing to keep us busy. But yoga teaches us to find contentment, or santosha. Yoga tells us what contentment gives us. Actually practicing it is another matter. In his commentary, Bryant cites the classical commentator Vyasa, who says the happiness of contentment comes from the end of craving.

So we just don't want anything anymore?

No, we still want things, people, goals, whatever. Happiness shouldn't depend on outside stimuli, it must come from within. To me, that means how we respond to life. When I seek outside happiness, I stand in the way of my own contentment. The only time is now in my world. In this here and now, I must be happy with what I have. That doesn't remove any goal I'm working for nor does it negate "wanting more." But it means that I can't depend on another for my happiness.

Becoming dependent on outside stimuli for our contentment and happiness keeps us in an endless loop where we can't be OK without the next lotto ticket, Amazon delivery, 5K run, or even that next yoga class. If we constantly seek the next thrill, scroll, or whatever makes our hearts pound, are we really in recovery? Because the substances may be gone and we may be logging days on a clean & sober calendar, but the behavior remains. That's not healing our brains.

Even at 13 years sober, I don't always realize how discontented I've been until I find contentment again. The other day, I was taking stock of my year and how much life has changed this year, and for the better, might I add. In January, I wouldn't have been able to tell you my contentment in life was lacking. But it was. I really thought I was on the right track. It would be another month before I'd need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with myself and figure things out. Now, I can look back and feel glad I 'woke up' and found my way back to here. (Spoiler alert: it was my career path that need redirecting).

In this here & now of November 2026, I've found the layers of contentment I didn't have 10 months ago. It happens. I used to be pretty good at deluding myself that things were well when they were very much not. I've learned my signs. If I'm unhappy, I seek contentment from all kinds of things that never help. Maybe it's overeating or eating the wrong things. Maybe it's over-spending. Either way, there's the word "over." Overdoing it. (While simultaneously NOT getting OVER something or someone, funny how that works.)

Maybe I'm also overly sensitive. Over tired. Maybe just over it. When I've got a lot of "over" happening, that's a sure sign I'm out of balance. Period. It's also a signal I've gone across the bounds of what contentment means in my life. I seek more and we all know an addict's true addiction is to MORE.

Contentment helps us to arrive at the door of enough and walk over that threshold. More is the enemy of sane and sober. More is where we seek trouble, enablers, and escape (to say the least). More is where we cross from loving a job into workaholism and passions cease being fun. We all do it. More is when we hit a dozen meetings a week and have even more sponsees (and I say this with love). I mean, how much stimuli does one human need?

How can we be more content?

It's easy to look at yoga, which most people view as on-the-mat exercises, and wonder how that physical practice can help us find contentment in our day-to-day lives. Next time you're on your yoga mat, look at your approach to yoga. Can you do a few simple warmups on a day you don't feel your best and call it a day? Or do you push because you think you "need" a practice or workout? Can you take a rest when you get tired or do you keep pushing? Do you push to find your edge and keep going, or do you stay within your body's sensible bounds, listening to the voice within? Or do you feel some pride & ego push to always achieve, therefore pushing past the edge? No one should hear a loud pop in yoga.

Sometimes, we push too hard in our lives until that loud pop makes itself known. I was headed that way in January. I was on a career train that was headed nowhere fast and yet, I couldn't get enough! Hello, addict behavior! Thankfully, life reeled me back in. My spirit couldn't ignore the nudges that came its way. If you're a person in recovery, you know what I'm talking about. There was a time in our addiction that we thought, "Edge? What edge? There's no stopping this train!" Today, I'm fortunate to be on a new career path with work and people I truly enjoy. Because I'm better at recognizing the place of discontentment as well as contentment, my life didn't need to hit a loud pop first.

One important thing to remember is to not confuse comfort with contentment. Comfort is the couch, the familiar routine, the rut that feels safe because we know it. It can keep us stuck. Contentment is different. It's knowing what's enough, and enough is a lifesaver. My "enough" may be pretty low, actually. I may not need or want much, but comfort can sure get in the way.

Enough, contentment, or santosha means I can stop before I'm full in all areas of life. It means I quit while I'm ahead. It means I listen to my body on the days I shouldn't do the advanced pose. It means I can be content with myself and my life on the challenging days just as much as the good days. Enough erases some invisible force that drives my ego to want to 'impress' when I could just exist, as I am, merely enough.

In recovery, that's what lasting sobriety looks like to me now: not just putting down the substance, but putting down the need for more. I don't need to be, do, or have more.

A note on translations: I recently picked up Edwin F. Bryant's translation after learning Swami Satchidananda was (ahem) problematic, to say the least. I'm liking Bryant's book the best so far, and I've also read Gregor Maehle's version in Ashtanga Yoga.

Bryant, Edwin F. The Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali: A New Edition, Translation, and Commentary. New York: North Point Press, 2009.