I think yoga builds strength, flexibility, and calming of the

"I think yoga builds strength, flexibility, and the calming of the mind—which is never a bad thing." These words from Joyce DiDonato, the world-renowned mezzo-soprano, carry the resonance not only of an artist who has conquered the stage, but of a seeker who has touched the ancient wisdom of balance. In her reflection, she names three treasures that human beings have pursued since the dawn of time: the strength to endure, the flexibility to adapt, and the stillness of a mind at peace. These gifts, born from the practice of yoga, are no mere exercise—they are a discipline of the whole being.

The ancients of India first spoke of this art, shaping yoga as a path not just of body but of soul. For them, the bending of the limbs was never an end in itself, but a gateway to harmony between flesh, breath, and spirit. The sage who practiced yoga was not training only for battle or labor, but for the greatest struggle of all—the conquest of the self. DiDonato, though a daughter of another tradition, recognizes this wisdom in her own life, affirming that its fruits—the strength of body, the flexibility of form, and the calming of the mind—remain as vital today as they were in the days of the Upanishads.

Consider the story of Mahatma Gandhi, who, though frail of frame, drew upon disciplines like yoga and fasting to steel his spirit. His strength was not measured in muscle but in endurance, his flexibility not in body alone but in the ability to adapt his struggle to each new challenge. Most of all, his calm mind allowed him to stand against the fury of an empire without descending into violence. Through these qualities, cultivated through inner discipline, he moved millions and altered the course of history.

DiDonato’s insight carries a lesson not only for the artist or the ascetic, but for all. For in modern life, the body grows weak from stillness, the spirit grows rigid from routine, and the mind grows restless from endless noise. To cultivate strength, flexibility, and peace of mind is not a luxury, but a necessity. The singer who steadies her breath before song, the worker who calms his thoughts before labor, the parent who bends with patience rather than breaks in anger—all embody the wisdom of yoga in daily life.

There is also a heroic quality in her words. For to train the body without training the mind is to wield power without direction, and to train the mind without tending the body is to carry spirit in a fragile vessel. But to unite body and mind is to walk the path of wholeness. Strength gives us the power to rise when we fall, flexibility gives us the grace to bend without breaking, and calmness gives us the wisdom to act without haste. This triad is no small thing—it is the foundation of a life lived well.

The lesson is clear: seek balance. Do not pursue strength alone, lest you grow hard and brittle. Do not pursue flexibility alone, lest you lack resolve. Do not pursue calmness alone, lest you forget to act. Let all three grow together in harmony, as the ancients taught, and you will be like the oak that stands firm, the reed that bends with the wind, and the clear water that reflects the sky.

Practically, this means adopting habits of body and mind that cultivate wholeness. Take time each day to move, to stretch, to breathe deeply. In moments of anger or fear, pause to calm the mind. In times of rigidity, remember to bend. And in seasons of weakness, strengthen yourself through steady effort. These small practices, repeated, become the great victories of life.

So let DiDonato’s words be passed down: “Yoga builds strength, flexibility, and calming of the mind.” Not as the fad of an age, but as the echo of an ancient truth. Teach it to children, who must learn early the gift of balance. Share it with companions, who wrestle with the storms of life. And whisper it to your own heart, when restlessness consumes you: “Be strong. Be flexible. Be calm.” For in these three lies the way to endure, the way to adapt, and the way to live in peace.