25/08/2026
💜🌸
PATTERNS WE DO NOT BRING INTO AWARENESS SHAPE OUR CHOICES
Either we gradually become aware of and loosen the patterns that govern us, or they will continue to emerge through our choices — in our need to prove ourselves, in the way we choose and experience our partners, in the way we love, defend ourselves, withdraw and attach, but also in the emotional atmosphere in which we raise our children.
All of us enter the present moment together with our history — with our past.
We carry with us our experiences, learned ways of responding, beliefs about ourselves and others, fears, expectations, unmet needs, and strategies we once developed in an attempt to preserve safety, belonging or a sense of self-worth.
Some of these patterns were useful during certain periods of our lives. They helped us adapt, protect ourselves or find our place within circumstances that, at the time, we were unable to change.
The difficulty arises when what was once a way of adapting becomes an automatic response that we continue to apply even when the circumstances are no longer the same.
The past does not necessarily return as a clear memory. It may return as the very way in which we interpret the present.
If, deep within ourselves, we expect abandonment, we may experience every moment of a partner’s distance as a threat.
If we have learned that love must be earned, we may continually try to prove our worth.
If we associate intimacy with the loss of freedom, we may withdraw precisely when someone becomes important to us.
If we grew up surrounded by unpredictability, a peaceful relationship may sometimes feel unfamiliar — perhaps even less attractive than a relationship filled with the tension to which we have become accustomed.
This is why today we speak not only about whom we choose, but also about the inner models through which we recognize safety, love, danger and belonging.
Early experiences of closeness and attachment may contribute to the formation of inner representations of whether we can rely on others and whether we ourselves are worthy of love.
There is also a tendency for old relational patterns and unresolved conflicts to be unconsciously repeated within new relationships.
Through deeply rooted beliefs and patterns of thought, we interpret both ourselves and others.
What remains outside awareness can therefore exert a powerful influence on what we experience as a free choice.
Yoga — the traces of previous experience
The yoga tradition approaches this phenomenon through its own conceptual language.
The term Saṃskāra refers to a trace or impression that experience leaves within us.
Through the repetition of experiences and responses, more enduring tendencies may develop — Vāsanās — dispositions through which particular ways of thinking, feeling or behaving become increasingly accessible and spontaneous.
Closely connected with these are the Kleśas, the inner factors that, according to Patañjali, obscure clear perception:
Avidyā — incorrect or incomplete perception of reality;
Asmitā — identification with a limited image of oneself;
Rāga — attachment to that from which we expect pleasure;
Dveṣa — rejection and avoidance of that which we associate with unpleasantness;
Abhiniveśa — a deep attachment to security and fear of loss.
When we observe these processes within intimate relationships, we can see how relevant they remain.
We may become attached to a partner not only because we love them, but also because we expect them to confirm our sense of worth.
We may reject intimacy not because we do not need it, but because it activates an old fear of being hurt.
We may attempt to control a relationship because uncertainty is difficult for us to tolerate.
We may expect another person to heal what we have not yet learned to recognize and nurture within ourselves.
At that point, the pattern begins to choose alongside us.
It does not determine us completely — but it narrows the inner space from which we choose.
When fear — and the past — begins to make our decisions
When we live under the influence of fear for a long time, fear can easily colour the way we perceive the world.
The question is then no longer simply:
“Who is a suitable partner for me?”
Without our noticing, it may gradually become:
“Who will not leave me?”
“Who will confirm that I am worthy?”
“Who can I keep close enough for me to feel safe?”
Or, conversely:
“How can I prevent anyone from becoming close enough to hurt me?”
An external choice may appear to have been made freely, while its inner logic is being shaped by something much older and more hidden.
Development therefore does not mean that we will never again experience fear, jealousy, insecurity or the need for reassurance.
Development means that a space of awareness begins to emerge between an inner impulse and our response.
I can feel fear — without allowing fear to make the decision for me.
I can recognize an old need — without making my partner responsible for continually satisfying it.
I can notice a pattern — without repeating it.
It is precisely within this space that freedom begins.
What we pass on to our children is not only what we tell them
Children do not learn only from our advice.
They learn from the way we live.
They observe how we speak when we are hurt, how we resolve disagreements, how we express tenderness, how we set boundaries, whether we are able to acknowledge a mistake, how we relate to our own body and emotions, and what we do when fear, anger or disappointment arise.
Children live within the atmosphere of our energetic field — or, in psychological terms, within the emotional climate of the family, emotional attunement, non-verbal communication, co-regulation and learning through modelling.
Children perceive much that we never express in words.
They notice the tension behind the words “everything is fine.”
They register the ways in which their parents move closer to and farther away from one another.
They learn what love means by observing how we love one another.
A child therefore does not simply inherit our “problems.”
But a child grows within relationships whose quality contributes to their understanding of themselves, of other people and of the world.
This brings with it great responsibility — but it is not a reason for guilt.
No parent is without personal patterns.
A child does not need a perfect parent.
Far more important is the presence of an adult who can recognize their own reaction, return to a conversation after conflict, acknowledge a mistake, repair the relationship, and demonstrate that in every circumstance there is a possibility of finding the strength to grow.
By developing ourselves, we change the quality of our relationships
The decision to work on ourselves is therefore never an entirely private decision.
When we become more aware of our own fears, we change the way we make decisions.
When we depend less on external validation, we choose partners differently.
When we learn to regulate our own tension, we transmit less of it to the people we love.
When we become aware of our need for control, we can give our partner more space.
When we recognize old wounds, we stop expecting our present partner to continually pay the debts of our past.
And when we cultivate presence, patience and the ability to return to ourselves, we also change the quality of presence we offer our children.
This may be one of the most meaningful dimensions of personal development:
we do not develop only so that we ourselves may feel better.
We also develop so that our unrecognized fears do not have to become the life task of the people we love.
Yoga therefore does not ask us to reject our past or to fight against ourselves.
It invites us to begin seeing more clearly what is taking place within us.
Because what we are able to recognize no longer has to govern us completely.
A Saṃskāra can be recognized.
A Vāsanā does not have to remain fixed.
A Kleśa can lose some of its power when it is illuminated by the awareness of understanding and acceptance.
Development then becomes a gradual expansion of inner freedom — the capacity, between an old pattern and a new life, not to choose automatic repetition, but a more conscious response.
Perhaps this is why one of the most beautiful gifts we can offer our partner and our children is precisely the work we do on ourselves:
to love them from an ever-greater place of freedom, and less and less from our fears.
