Can you feel whole without being healthy? That question has been on my mind for quite some time. In my work, I meet people with Long COVID who still live with significant physical limitations, yet gradually feel less broken. They experience more peace, greater trust, and a deeper connection with themselves. At the same time, I also know people whose bodies appear to function perfectly well, yet who never truly seem to feel at home within themselves. It made me wonder. Perhaps health and wholeness are not the same thing. A definition that has endured Since its founding in 1948, the World Health Organization has defined health as a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being. Despite decades of debate, this remains its official definition. For me, the tension lies in one word: complete. Taken literally, this definition would imply that anyone living with a chronic illness could never truly be healthy. That has never felt entirely right to me—not when I look at the people I work with, and perhaps not when you pause to reflect on it yourself. Gradually, I began to look at health differently. The Ayurvedic tradition offers another perspective. The concept of svastha is often translated as established in oneself or grounded in oneself. It shifts the focus from health as the absence of disease to the relationship a person has with themselves. It is not an alternative to the WHO definition, but it is a different way of looking at health. Health and wholeness are not the same For me, health primarily concerns how the body functions. Wholeness is something different. Wholeness is the experience of being able to experience yourself, your body and your life as one coherent whole. That does not mean everything is perfect. Nor does it mean that all symptoms have disappeared. It means being able to be present with what is, even when life is difficult, without constantly being at war with yourself or your body. You can be physically ill and still experience greater peace, acceptance, connection and meaning. And you can be physically healthy while feeling deeply unhappy, empty or alienated. More than the body This line of thinking led me to Aristotle. He described the highest aim of human life not as health, but as eudaimonia - a flourishing and meaningful life in which a person can fully develop their potential. Health contributes to this, but it is not identical to it. Physical circumstances matter, but they do not tell the whole story. I encounter a similar idea within yoga philosophy, although from a very different starting point. Rather than defining a person primarily through health, classical yoga describes the human being through different layers of experience, of which the physical body is only one. The Taittirīya Upanishad describes these as the five koshas: the physical body, vital energy, the mind, discernment, and a deeper dimension of inner fulfilment. They are not arranged in order of importance, but represent five simultaneous dimensions of the same human being. Two traditions, separated by centuries and continents, yet beginning with the same question: not "What is health?" but "What is a human being?" Why the word whole? The word that has continued to occupy my thoughts is whole. I realise it can also create resistance; as if being whole would mean that nothing is damaged, nothing is missing, nothing is broken. That is not what I mean. Whole does not mean undamaged. It means not being reduced to what has been damaged. You can live with physical limitations, have lost abilities, and still remain whole because you are more than what no longer functions. Your body may be damaged. You remain a whole human being. There is something fascinating about language here. The words heal, health, whole and holy all share the same linguistic roots, referring to ideas of wholeness and completeness. That does not prove a philosophical truth. But it does invite us to think differently about what healing might mean. Perhaps healing is not about returning to who we once were. Perhaps it is not about eliminating pain or limitations. Perhaps it is about no longer experiencing ourselves solely as someone who is damaged or broken. I recognise this idea beyond philosophy as well. Jon Kabat-Zinn describes mindfulness as paying attention to the present moment, intentionally and without judgment. Thich Nhat Hanh often spoke about coming home to yourself. In different words, they describe something remarkably similar to what I witness in the yoga studio. Healthy, yet empty - or ill, yet whole I know people with healthy bodies who nevertheless feel deeply unhappy, directionless or empty. And I know participants living with chronic illness who, despite their limitations, gradually rediscover peace, trust and connection. This reminds me of Viktor Frankl's description of the existential vacuum—a sense of inner emptiness that can exist even when external circumstances appear perfectly fine. Apparently, physical health alone is not always enough to feel connected, meaningful or truly at home within yourself. Perhaps this also explains why yoga can sometimes contribute something valuable to healthcare. Medical treatment rightly focuses on reducing disease and improving physical functioning. Yoga, alongside that, may invite people to cultivate a different relationship with themselves, their bodies and their circumstances. These approaches do not compete. They complement one another. Two movements Sometimes I see participants who recover physically. Sometimes I see participants whose symptoms hardly change, yet who experience greater peace, trust and quality of life. Both movements are valuable. The first is physical recovery. The second is the rediscovery of wholeness. My work is aimed at creating conditions in which both become possible. I cannot promise recovery. What I try to do is create conditions that support the body's and mind's natural regulatory and restorative capacities as well as possible. This may include rest, appropriate pacing, safety, mindful attention, breath, movement, connection and space to discover what is truly needed. Not to force recovery. But to support the body as well as possible. Sometimes profound illness also brings new priorities, new insights or a deeper sense of meaning. Psychology refers to this as post-traumatic growth. This does not mean suffering is necessary or valuable, nor that everyone should grow through adversity. It is simply one possible path alongside ongoing symptoms, loss and grief. Why I am sharing this This is not a new definition of health. Nor is it a finished scientific theory. It is a personal exploration, informed by my work as a yoga therapist, conversations with participants, scientific literature, mindfulness and yoga philosophy. A conversation with a psychologist confirmed for me that this is not merely a yoga question. Psychology and healthcare are also searching for ways to take people's inner experience seriously without reducing it solely to measurable data. What someone feels, experiences and finds meaningful cannot be fully captured by a scan, a blood test or a questionnaire. That does not make those experiences any less real. I believe that body and mind possess remarkable regulatory and restorative capacities when conditions are as supportive as possible. That does not mean recovery always occurs. Nor does it imply that people are somehow to blame when recovery does not happen. What I do see is that some people recover physically while others do not, yet even when symptoms remain, people can rediscover a sense of wholeness: a feeling that, despite living in a changed body, they remain fully human. For me, this thought captures the essence: Health concerns how the body functions. Wholeness is not about having a body without illness or limitations. It is about the experience of not losing yourself as a human being, even in a changed body, and of being able to experience your life once again as a coherent whole. The two often coincide. But not always. Perhaps healthcare ultimately needs both: attention to physical recovery wherever possible, and attention to the person who is more than their illness. When I began writing this article, I thought I was writing about health. Now I think the question gradually shifted into something more fundamental: What is a human being, and what does a person need in order to feel whole, even when the body no longer fully is? At the end of August, I will take this question with me to the ISLC-PAIS Conference in Amsterdam, where researchers, healthcare professionals and people living with PAIS and Long COVID from around the world will come together. I am curious to hear how they think about it. Perhaps my thinking will change. Perhaps it will be confirmed. Either way, dialogue helps deepen ideas. To me, that is precisely the value of science: not defending a position, but searching together for a better understanding of health, recovery and what it means to be human. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Does health begin with the body, or perhaps with our understanding of what it means to be human? 🇳🇱 Nederlandse blog: https://www.youarethebuddha.com/post/gezondheid-alleen-is-niet-genoeg Marlies Tobias is a yoga therapist in training, founder of Yoga Academy You Are The Buddha (Breda Central Station, The Netherlands), and an MSc student in Yoga Therapy at Vivekananda Yoga University (VaYU). She writes about health, yoga, and what it means to remain whole, even when the body is not.

What do you actually learn in your VaYU program? (And why that matters in real life) That question came up this morning from Stefanie Veenhuizen, a physician-researcher involved in the UMC COBRA study. And honestly, I loved it. Because the answer touches everything I do day to day: in my classes, in yoga therapy, and in the Yoga Teacher Training at my studio in Breda Central Station. Maybe this is also why yoga has become so widely embraced. People are not only looking for flexibility or fitness, they are looking for steadiness. Something that helps the nervous system exhale. Something that makes life feel a little more manageable, and a little more meaningful. And when yoga is used for stress, recovery, and health challenges, a bigger question follows naturally: how do we teach it responsibly, without turning it into vague wellness or overselling what it can do? SYR 2023 at Kripalu was where I first discovered VaYU, and where I met Sat Bir Singh Khalsa. His clarity stayed with me: Eastern wisdom expressed in Western language, without losing the essence. So, what is VaYU? VaYU stands for Vivekananda Yoga University. VaYU describes itself as a private, non-profit university focused on graduate education and research, offering academic programs at Master’s and PhD level, where yoga is approached as a full field of study with philosophy, therapy, and research integrated into one coherent curriculum. I’m currently completing the Master of Science in Yoga (Yoga Therapy). This is not a short course or a surface-level certification. It is a multi-year program with depth and structure, including subjects such as: yogic philosophy and classical texts anatomy, physiology, and pathology research methodology and statistics yoga as therapy for a range of health conditions A practical detail: what does this look like in real life? During the week I study at my own pace with video lectures, reading, and assignments. On weekends, I join live online Q&A sessions in the afternoon, in small groups of around five students. That detail matters more than you might think. The small group format keeps the learning personal, interactive, and precise. There is room for real questions, real discussion, and real case-based thinking. A peek behind the scenes: weekday study with Dr. Nagarathna, weekend live Q&A in a small group, and then taking those insights straight back to the mat in Breda. A practical detail: what does this look like in real life? During the week I learn at my own pace through video lectures, reading, and assignments. On weekends I have live online sessions in the afternoon, in small groups of around five students. That small group format matters. It keeps the learning personal, interactive, and precise. There is room for real questions, real discussion, and real case-based thinking. And it’s not only theory. We also receive practical yoga classes. We practice the techniques in our own bodies, and we continuously translate theory back to the mat. For me, that is essential. Yoga should make sense in the mind, and it should land in the body. Why I chose VaYU: authentic yoga, with a direct line to the source (East meets West) One of my main reasons for choosing VaYU is simple: I want to learn authentic yoga, with a direct line to the source in India. At the same time, I wanted a program that does not romanticise yoga, but holds it to a high standard when it comes to safety, evidence, and application in real-world health contexts. That blend is often described as “East meets West”, and for me it is exactly that: tradition with roots, and translation with responsibility. The “East meets West” bridge is visible in who teaches us. What I value at VaYU is the calibre and diversity. A few examples that have shaped me: Dr. R. Nagarathna (MD, DSc) represents the clinical integration of yoga. Her work reminds me that yoga therapy can be rigorous, medically informed, and still deeply yogic. Padmashree Gudapadi (MSc) brings an applied-science research background (including work within India’s defence research ecosystem). I love that kind of mind: precise, practical, and evidence-aware. Dr. Sat Bir Singh Khalsa (PhD) is widely known in yoga research circles and is associated with Harvard Medical School. His work helps translate yoga into language that the scientific world recognises, without stripping yoga of its essence. Richard Fletcher (PhD), connected with institutions such as MIT-related work and UMass Medical contexts, reflects another part of the bridge: research, technology, and health meeting embodied practice. This mix matters to me because it supports the two things I care about most: authenticity and accountability. What I learn at VaYU (three layers) Understanding yoga from the source. A significant part of the curriculum focuses on classical texts such as the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the Bhagavad Gita, and the Upanishads. Not as abstract philosophy, but as a living framework for attention, inner stability, meaning, and human behaviour. In practice, this teaches me how to guide yoga as more than “doing postures”. It becomes a method for training the mind and regulating the nervous system, with ethics and clarity at the centre. Concretely, I learn for example: how asana, breath, meditation, and deep rest relate to attention and emotional regulation how to translate deep concepts into accessible language without losing the essence how to teach in a way that supports genuine inner process, not performance Learning to think like a researcher The MSc trains critical thinking . Research methodology and statistics are not just “academic requirements”. They teach me how to read evidence carefully, understand limitations, and avoid exaggerated claims. This is important because yoga is popular partly for stress relief and self-regulation. When people come to yoga because life feels like too much, they deserve teaching that is both compassionate and accurate. Not fear-based, not magical thinking, and not overpromising. This slide made me smile: a simple breath practice like Bhramari, and suddenly you see the biology behind it. This is the kind of learning I love at VaYU. Yoga as therapy Yoga therapy is much more than offering a gentle class. It includes learning: how health complaints develop and persist, through both Western physiology and yogic models how to take a thorough intake and build an individualised plan how to work with safety, contraindications, dosage, progression, and realistic goals how yoga can complement conventional care without replacing it This directly supports what I do in Breda: yoga therapy for Long COVID, stress-related complaints, post-illness recovery, and chronic pain. It also changes how I teach regular group classes, with more precision, more pacing, and more respect for different nervous systems in the room. What students and clients notice in practice If your teacher studies at VaYU, what changes for you? In my experience, it shows up as: more safety and thoughtful progression, especially when symptoms or health limitations are present language that connects mind and body, so you learn to recognise signals and patterns practical tools for self-regulation at home, so therapy supports independence a stronger bridge to healthcare and research, without diluting yoga into generic wellness Back to Stefanie’s question What do you actually learn in your VaYU program? Here is my honest one-sentence answer, as Marlies:  I’m learning to understand, research, and apply yoga as an authentic and responsible therapeutic discipline, rooted in the source tradition from India and refined through a Western scientific lens, so it can meet the need that made yoga so popular in the first place: helping busy minds and tired nervous systems find steadiness again, in a way that is safe, embodied, and real. If you are curious what this approach could mean for you, you are very welcome at my studio in Breda Central Station, for regular classes, yoga therapy, or the Yoga Teacher Training. If you’d like, we can plan a short kennismaking with a cup of tea, so you can feel whether it fits. This blog was written by Marlies Tobias, an MSc Yoga Therapy student at Vivekananda Yoga University (VaYU) and founder of Yoga Academy You are the Buddha, located at Breda Central Station. VaYU (for anyone who wants to explore) Website: https://vayuusa.org , Email:   apply@vayuusa.org My studio in Breda https://www.youarethebuddha.com

Introduction Our nervous system is not designed to be “on” all day. Still, that is exactly how many people experience their lives: a full schedule, a busy mind, and a body that is almost constantly slightly tense. The clear line between “doing” and “recovering” slowly fades. In my Yoga Therapy studies at Vivekananda Yoga University (VaYU), I explore how yoga and breathing techniques can help the nervous system move more easily between these two modes. I bring this knowledge into my yoga therapy groups, the mindfulness classes in my studio at Breda station, and into workshops such as the Vayu Nervous System Reset in Italy. What is a nervous system reset? A nervous system reset is a short, intentional pause for your nervous system.You give your body a very clear message: it is safe enough to step out of action mode and move toward recovery. A reset usually consists of three simple building blocks: grounding: feeling how your body meets the floor, mat, or chair breathing: slowing down the breath, often with a slightly longer exhale than inhale support: postures in which you do not have to hold yourself up, often seated or lying down It is not a spectacular exercise from the outside, but rather a subtle recalibration from within. Why would you want a nervous system reset? Our autonomic nervous system has two main directions: action mode (sympathetic): ready to respond, heart rate and breathing increase, muscles hold more tension, attention is directed outward recovery mode (parasympathetic): rest, digestion and the immune system get more space, tension can decrease Many people spend most of the day in a mild action mode: deadlines, caring for others, constant stimuli, a slightly heightened alertness. The body almost never receives a clear signal that it is allowed to recover. You may notice this as: restless or shallow sleep tension in neck, shoulders, or jaw feeling overstimulated or emotional more quickly finding it hard to relax, even when you have time a persistent sense of being “always on” A nervous system reset helps your nervous system experience again what the recovery mode actually feels like. This is pleasant in the moment and, over time, it increases your capacity to switch between effort and rest. Research fits well with this. Studies on slow, regular breathing, for example around six breaths per minute, show that it can increase heart rate variability (HRV), which is seen as a sign of higher parasympathetic activity and better stress regulation. Other research on diaphragmatic breathing and yoga based breathwork suggests that these ways of breathing can lower stress, anxiety, and physical stress markers, and support a greater sense of inner calm. In simple terms: what you experience during a reset as “more space and calm”, often shows up in research as a nervous system that is better able to recover. Who is a nervous system reset for? A nervous system reset is not a medical treatment, but it can be a valuable support alongside regular care. In my practice, I see it is especially helpful for people who: experience a lot of stress or tension and find it difficult to switch off are recovering from illness, surgery, or an intense period (in consultation with their doctor or therapist) live with chronic conditions, fatigue, or pain and are looking for gentle, realistic ways to calm the system often have tension related complaints such as a tight neck and shoulders, “pressure in the head”, or trouble falling asleep work in roles with a high cognitive or emotional load (healthcare, education, business, creative fields) practice mindfulness, but find it difficult to really feel that rest in the body In the yoga therapy groups, I often see that over time people become better at self-regulation: they notice more quickly when they are in “on” mode, and they have concrete tools to step down again. Important: if you have medical conditions or severe psychological problems, it is always necessary to discuss this first with your doctor or mental health professional. Yoga and nervous system resets can then be used as a complement, not as a replacement. How does a Vayu Nervous System Reset work in practice? In my classes and workshops, I use the term Vayu Nervous System Reset for a gentle, practical reset that you can also try at home. A simple mini sequence: Step 1 – Grounding Sit or lie down.Consciously feel your feet on the floor, or the contact of your back, pelvis, or legs with the surface beneath you.You do not need to change anything, simply register what you feel. Step 2 – Slowing the breath Breathe in through your nose for a count of 4.Breathe out for a count of 6.Let the breath flow as naturally as possible, without forcing it.Stay with this rhythm for 2 to 5 minutes. If this feels like too much, reduce the number of counts, as long as the exhale stays a little longer than the inhale. Step 3 – Softening tension Relax your jaw and let your tongue rest softly in your mouth.Notice if your shoulders can drop a fraction.Keep your attention with the exhale and the feeling of contact with the ground. This is a simple but effective way to let your body experience: it is safe enough to release a layer of tension. In the yoga therapy groups, we build on this with postures that fully support the body, specific breathing techniques, and moments of silent observation. In workshops, such as the session in Italy, we connect the practical experience with what we know from the yoga tradition and from modern research. Closing A nervous system reset is not a luxury, it is maintenance. You ask a lot of your nervous system throughout the day. It can make a huge difference if you also train the opposite direction: grounding, feeling, and breathing more slowly. If you would like to experience this with guidance, in a yoga therapy trajectory, a mindfulness group, or in a workshop around nervous system reset, feel free to contact me or speak to me in the studio at Breda station. This blog was written by Marlies Tobias, MSc student in Yoga Therapy at Vivekananda Yoga University (VaYU) and founder of Yoga Academy You are the Buddha, located in Breda railway station.