Yoga is equal parts strength, flexibility, balance, and

In the words of Mandy Ingber, the teacher of body and spirit, we are offered a timeless vision of harmony: “Yoga is equal parts strength, flexibility, balance, and endurance.” This saying is not only about the practice of poses, nor merely the discipline of the body—it is a declaration of the way of life. For in yoga, as in the path of all wisdom, power is not found in a single quality, but in the union of many forces working as one.

The first pillar is strength. Without strength, neither posture nor spirit can be held firm. Strength is the foundation upon which all else rests: the courage to press forward, the discipline to rise at dawn, the will to hold steady even when the body trembles. Yet strength alone, untempered, can harden into rigidity. It must be balanced with its twin: flexibility. Flexibility is the yielding that allows one to bend without breaking, to adapt without losing the essence of being. Together, strength and flexibility mirror the great paradox of life—that the oak and the reed are both needed, that to endure one must both resist and surrender.

The third pillar is balance. In yoga, balance is literal, as the body steadies itself in postures that challenge both focus and poise. But it is also symbolic, the alignment of opposites: stillness with motion, breath with thought, effort with ease. Balance is the art of standing between extremes, unmoved by chaos, grounded in the center of all things. And yet balance cannot exist in a fleeting moment—it must be sustained. Here arises the fourth pillar: endurance. Endurance is the fire of persistence, the refusal to surrender when time grows long and energy wanes. It is not only the length of breath but the length of life, the steady flame that does not falter when winds arise.

The ancients understood these four pillars, though not always by the name of yoga. The warriors of Sparta trained their bodies in strength, yet their survival depended upon endurance. The philosophers of Greece sought balance in reason, while the mystics of India taught flexibility of spirit, bending the ego until it dissolved into the infinite. Ingber’s words unite these ancient threads, declaring that yoga is not one path among them, but the weaving together of all.

History gives us an image in Mahatma Gandhi. His strength was not in armies, but in will. His flexibility lay in his ability to negotiate, to listen, to bend without surrendering his cause. His balance was his nonviolence, standing steady between rage and passivity. His endurance was his lifelong commitment, through prison and suffering, until freedom was born. Gandhi embodied what Ingber declares: the union of these four forces creates not only health of body, but greatness of spirit.

The lesson is clear: do not seek strength without flexibility, for the unbending will shatter. Do not pursue balance without endurance, for what is poised today may falter tomorrow. Instead, seek all four together, for in their harmony lies wholeness. To practice yoga, whether on the mat or in daily life, is to practice this integration—to build the muscle, to bend the mind, to steady the heart, to persevere through trial.

Practically, this means embracing both effort and release. Hold your ground when needed, but know when to yield. Stand firm in principle, but remain gentle in spirit. Center yourself daily, in breath and in thought, so that balance becomes your natural state. And above all, endure—let your spirit be a flame that time cannot extinguish. In this way, yoga ceases to be exercise and becomes philosophy, a way of living.

So let us remember Mandy Ingber’s wisdom: yoga is equal parts strength, flexibility, balance, and endurance. These four are not only the pillars of practice, but the pillars of a life lived fully. To embrace them is to walk the ancient path of harmony, to move not only with power, but with grace, steadiness, and an enduring spirit. And in such living, the body becomes temple, the breath becomes prayer, and life itself becomes yoga.