In Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, the young prince grows up surrounded by luxury, learning sacred texts and mastering rituals. He has everything the world says should bring happiness — status, knowledge, comfort — yet he finds no joy within himself. Nor does he see joy in those around him.
So he leaves home. This is what makes this a timeless classic: the hero’s journey in which we believe we must leave home to find the truth, only to return and realize we had it all along. Lessons from the hero’s journey always point to the middle path in life — a path that gently leads us away from extremes and toward lasting peace.
If you’d like to explore these themes more deeply, you may enjoy the Avita Book Club talk on Siddhartha.
Believing truth must lie at the opposite extreme, Siddhartha joins the Shramanas and lives a life of renunciation and poverty. He fasts. He meditates. He deprives himself. He pushes the body and mind to their limits in search of enlightenment.
There are lessons in this phase.
But the pendulum swing from indulgence to deprivation does not bring lasting peace.
Eventually, Siddhartha discovers something profound: truth is not found in extremes. It emerges along a more gentle path, where love becomes the guide and not the ego’s incessant pull toward “more” or “less.”
This mindful insight applies just as clearly to the way we care for our bodies.
The Cultural Pull Toward Extremes
Modern life is built on extremes.
We overwork, then try to recover with intense workouts.
We overindulge, then swing toward restriction.
We push harder, stretch deeper, strive for more — believing that somewhere beyond the next effort lies relief.
The fitness world often reflects this same mentality. More intensity. More repetitions. More complexity. Even yoga, originally a path of inner awareness, can become another arena for striving and achievement.
But extremes rarely bring lasting results or peace.
They keep us searching.
The body doesn’t heal through force.
But it can be reorganized through kind, consistent practice.
How Much Is Enough?
A simple question sits at the heart of healing:
How much is necessary?
How much compression does the body need to reorganize and become stronger? How much effort is required to generate real change?
In Avita Yoga, we return to feedback and peaceful guidance.
I explore this idea more deeply in my book Mobility for Life, where the principle of “less is more” becomes a practical approach to healing and strength.
When in doubt, reduce pressure.
With a peaceful, confident mind, anything is possible.
If we practice enough to get results, why would more be necessary?
The old phrase “no pain, no gain” is fading for good reason. Pain often signals disorganization, not progress. A more meditative approach — one that cultivates kinesthetic and proprioceptive awareness — leads to sustainable change.
Less force.
More listening.
Better results.
The Endless Search for “More”
The quest for more keeps us searching and never finding. It dangles carrots just out of reach, convincing us that the next achievement, the next improvement, the next level will finally bring satisfaction.
Eventually, we realize the push for more isn’t working.
At some point, we soften.
We begin to sense that less is more — not necessarily as a strategy, but as a state of mind. We don’t need to withdraw from life or renounce activity. We simply loosen the ego’s constant demand for excess.
We stop trying to force peace and instead clear the inner pathway for it to emerge naturally. If we trust that peace is looking for us, then undoing the blockages to it is the most direct path.
A Practical Middle Path
This doesn’t mean doing nothing.
It means we participate in life willingly and practice not making it so real by not being afraid.
In Avita, we often ask:
Will this practice bring sustainable results?
Will it reduce pain and strengthen bones and joints?
Will it support happy, lifelong function?
Physical gains become a byproduct of enjoyable, meaningful activity — not the sole objective. There is little value in climbing a mountain only to reach the top if the journey itself lacks meaning.
When we practice with patience and awareness, something subtle happens. We begin to notice where we overdo and where we avoid. We gently bring movement to what is neglected.
Where there’s movement, there’s health.
Where there’s stagnation, there’s calcification.
This is the middle path in physical form.
Letting the Shape Do the Work
Advancement comes not from pushing harder, but from loosening our attachment to outcomes. We meet ourselves where we are — fresh and new each time, with a beginner’s mind.
If we miss practice, we return without guilt.
If a shape feels unfamiliar, we enter gently.
If progress feels slow, we let it unfold.
You never lose your place.
The next practice is always the right one.
As we let the shape do its work and observe without judgment, the body reorganizes. Patterns soften. Restrictions release. And along the way, something deeper shifts within the mind.
We move away from fear and scarcity.
We move toward contentment and calm.
Love Over Extremes
Siddhartha eventually leaves both luxury and deprivation behind. He discovers that wisdom is not found by swinging between extremes, but by listening — deeply — to the quiet guidance within.
The same is true for us.
When we gently choose against the ego’s demand for more, the inner pendulum begins to settle. We stop pursuing peace as a distant goal and instead remove the obstacles that obscure it.
What remains is simple and steady.
A body that feels supported.
A mind that feels clear.
A life guided less by striving and more by love.
Less truly becomes more — not because we do less, but because we finally stop interfering with what naturally heals and sustains us.
This is the middle path in life.
If inspired, please join me and explore the practical side of this middle path through Avita Yoga classes.
Thank you,
Jeff
