Child’s Pose, Balasana, is often seen as a simple resting posture in yoga. But anyone who has ever truly dropped into it knows: this pose holds so much more.
To me, it’s a place of return.
A place where breath softens, ego quiets, and the body remembers its natural rhythm. Balasana offers a space to turn inward, to ground, to pause. It’s a pose I come back to again and again, not just as a teacher, but as a human being learning how to rest, how to listen, how to trust my own limits.
In the early days of my yoga journey, when my sense of boundaries was blurry, not just in movement, but in many aspects of my life, I remember teachers pressing down on my hips in Child’s Pose to try and “fix” the shape. My sit bones didn’t touch my heels, and they thought they should.
But here’s the truth: they don’t have to. Yours don’t have to either.
Our bodies are beautifully unique. Bone structure, proportions, flexibility, these all affect how a pose looks and feels. Someone else might easily fold into that classical Child’s Pose shape and still have less openness in their spine or hips than I do. That’s why I always remind my students: the goal isn’t to imitate a picture. The goal is to feel your version of the pose, your truth, your surrender.
Because spiritually, Balasana is a posture of resting. Not forcing. Not pushing. Not performing.
It’s a quiet bow to the divine, whatever that means to you. A gentle resting of the head to the earth. A gesture of humility and trust. The fetal-like position calls to mind the safety and protection of the womb. It’s an embodied return to softness, to being held, to feeling cared for, by the breath, the moment, or something greater.
Mentally, it’s a sanctuary of stillness. One of those rare shapes where you can drop your guard and breathe. Deeply. Slowly. The parasympathetic nervous system, the one that governs “rest and digest”, gets activated here. Stress begins to dissolve. The mind clears. And in that gentle quiet, you can hear your inner voice more clearly.
Physically, Child’s Pose offers a gentle stretch through the back, hips, thighs, and ankles. It allows the spine to lengthen and the body to soften. Knees together? You’ll feel a light compression that can help with digestion. Knees apart? You might feel more space in your hips and belly. Arms extended forward or resting alongside the body, both options offer different sensations. Neither is more “right” than the other.
This is also a pose that teaches a profound lesson: it’s okay to rest.
It’s okay to say, I’ve had enough.
It’s okay to take a breath.
It’s okay to ask for support.
In our culture, where productivity is praised and rest is often framed as weakness, choosing to pause can feel radical. But Child’s Pose reminds us that strength lies not in pushing through—but in knowing when to stop and listen. When I teach this pose, I sometimes say to my students, You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to ask for help.
To come into Child’s Pose:
Start by kneeling on the mat with your big toes touching. Your knees can be together or apart—whichever feels more supportive. Gently lower your hips toward your heels and, as you exhale, fold your torso forward. Let your forehead rest on the ground (or a block or cushion if needed). Your arms can stretch forward with palms down, or relax alongside your body with palms up. Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Stay as long as you like.
No rush. No goal. Just breath and being.
Whether you use Child’s Pose to rest between stronger poses or you turn to it on its own, when you’re anxious, overwhelmed, or just need to feel grounded, it’s a potent tool for self-care and self-connection.
Next time you step onto your mat, or even just onto the ground beside your bed, try dropping into Balasana. Let yourself be held. Let the breath move you inward. Trust the simplicity. You don’t have to do more. You just have to be.
In this posture of surrender, you may find a quiet strength. A soft kind of wisdom. And perhaps, a gentle reminder that you are already enough.