You can’t see it. You can’t touch it. But it keeps you alive, sparks your thoughts, and powers your moods. We call it energy, but what is it, really?
I’ve been preparing a retreat themed around energy, a word that sounds simple until you try to define it. (And if you’ve read my blogs or know me in real life, you’ll know I’m not exactly what you’d call woo-woo. I like the woo. I just like it peer reviewed.)
So, I did what I always do when things feel fuzzy: I wrote. It’s how I separate the woo from the real, the fluff from the facts, the bull from the compost.
And here’s where I landed.
What Do We Mean by "Energy"?
If you look up “energy” in the dictionary you get various definitions:
the strength and vitality required for sustained physical or mental activity
power derived from the utilization of physical or chemical resources, especially to provide light and heat or to work machines
the property of matter and radiation which is manifest as a capacity to perform work (such as causing motion or the interaction of molecules):
We measure energy in food as calories, in exercise as effort, and in physics as the capacity to do work whether that’s digesting lunch or lifting a suitcase. Energy is part of how we move through the world. Other people give it off. We respond. We give it off too, even when we don’t mean to. It’s not something that we can see or bottle up (though advertisers would beg to differ.) For something so important, it seems strange that it isn’t more tangible.
Making Sense of the Invisible
Walk into a room and even if everyone has their backs turned, you can sense the vibe. You know when something is off. You meet someone and within seconds you know that they are your next best friend, or you should run from them. Call it instinct, gut feeling, chemistry, whatever label you use, it’s real. You’re picking up on something- an energy. Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. (I can’t see the wiry chin hairs until I’m armed with a magnifying mirror and glasses. Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.)
Our lives are governed by energy, internally and externally. When energy is low, we feel flat or heavy, and motivation disappears. When it’s too high, it tips into anxiety, restlessness, fizz. This version of energy is affected by a mixture of the nervous system, hormones, brain chemistry together with how we slept, what we ate, how many WhatsApp notifications we’ve dodged today. Again, something that we can’t see, or hold onto but we know it is very real and it shapes everything.
Enter Prāṇa
Yoga has its own language for all this. That subtle energy we’ve been talking about; the stuff we feel but can’t quite define- in yogic terms it’s called prāṇa. Often translated as life force.
We can think of it as the spark that animates us. It’s what makes us more than just warm flesh and moving parts. It’s behind our digestion, our ability to move, to speak, to think, to feel. It fuels everything from the beat of our heart to the blink of our eye and when it’s gone, we’re gone.
Prāṇa isn’t breath, but it travels with the breath like a surfer on a wave. Breath is the most tangible way we access it. Which is probably why so many yoga practices start there.
Prāṇa travels through energy channels, invisible pathways in the body called nāḍīs. Not quite nerves, not quite blood vessels, but the idea is similar: a network carrying something vital. According to yogic texts, we have thousands of nāḍīs but three main ones get all the airtime:
• Idā, the left channel cooling, lunar
• Piṅgalā, the right channel heating, solar
• Suṣumnā, the central channel that runs along the spine
When prāṇa flows freely through suṣumnā, something special is said to happen. The dormant energy known as kundalinī rises. Kundalinī is often described as a coiled serpent at the base of the spine- a metaphor for latent spiritual energy waiting to rise. And with it, comes a shift in awareness.
Now, this is where even I start to splutter and my woo-woo metre goes off. Invisible pathways, subtle forces, a sleeping serpent that unlocks the universe? Sounds like a dodgy sci-fi script.
And yet…
Wiring the Body
It’s not as far-fetched as it sounds. An inner current, a central channel, something flowing through the spine is weirdly close to how modern science describes the electrical wiring of the human body.
Every time your heart beats, it does so because of an electrical impulse. Your brain sends signals through a network of electrical circuits; neurons firing across synapses. Your nervous system, fascia, organs, all communicate through bioelectrical and biochemical means. You are, quite literally, an energy system. That “spark of life” the yogis spoke about wasn’t entirely metaphorical.
The yogis talk about suṣumnā as the central channel through which prāṇa flows. Modern science talks about the spinal cord carrying electrical signals up and down the body. Different language, same idea: a central channel, a flow of energy, and everything else depending on it.
A Vibrating Stone
In biology or physiology, we tend to think of energy as heartbeats, brainwaves, electricity zipping down nerves - the biological buzz of being alive. But yoga looks at it differently. It describes prāṇa as the subtle force behind everything, not just living things, but rivers, wind, sunlight. Even stones. Things we’d usually write off as lifeless are said to carry prāṇa too, just in a denser, subtler form.
In physics, energy is defined as the capacity to do work. That might mean lifting a box, lighting a room, or digesting a meal. But energy also exists at the atomic level, in the vibration and movement of particles too small to see.
Modern science, particularly quantum physics, tells us that everything in the material world is made of atoms. Atoms are mostly empty space, with electrons orbiting a nucleus. These electrons are in constant motion and that motion produces a vibrational frequency, usually measured in hertz (Hz). (While Hz doesn’t measure energy itself, frequency reflects the vibrational state of matter, which is linked to energy at the atomic level.)
Everything is vibrating. You, your yoga mat, the kitchen table, even that humble pebble in the garden. Not metaphorically- physically. Physics tells us that everything, including what we think of as lifeless matter, is in motion.
What the Yogis Felt
None of this is especially woo-woo. It’s physics. The yogis just didn’t have lab equipment. What the ancient rishis did have was refined perception. They sat still for hours, days, even years and noticed how the mountain felt. How a rock pulsed. How silence had texture.
They didn’t analyse; they meditated. Through deep states of ekagrata- one-pointed focus -and eventually samādhi, the boundary between observer and observed dissolved. They became one with what they were looking at. They ‘studied’ it the way a physicist studies subatomic particles: with repeat observation, subtle variation, and attention to cause and effect.
And while we’re busy looking outward; checking, measuring, scanning, they turned inward. Not because they were uninterested in the world, but because they believed the whole universe could be felt from the inside out.
Emotions as Energy in Motion
So far, we’ve been talking about physical energy: the electrical buzz and subtle pulse of living things. But in yoga, energy isn’t just biological. It’s emotional too.
Modern neuroscience shows that emotions trigger real physiological changes: shifts in heart rate, breath, posture, and brain activity. Even if they don’t call it “energy,” they’re describing what yogis might label prāṇa in motion.
Ever felt rage in your jaw? Grief in your chest? That’s energy being redirected or stuck. We hold experiences in our tissues. The fascia, gut, and breath respond, even when the mind doesn’t. That’s why pigeon pose might make you cry. It’s not the pose. It’s the release. It’s your nervous system catching up.
In the book The Body Keeps the Score it says that unprocessed emotions don’t vanish with time or logic. They lodge in the body. The jaw clenches. The breath shortens. The shoulders hunch. It’s not just in your head. It’s the residue of experience living in tissue.
Let It Move
So how do you begin to shift that energy?
Start by paying attention. The next time you’re anxious, angry, or overwhelmed, don’t just ask what you’re feeling, ask where. Is your breath stuck? Is your chest tight? Are your hands cold, your jaw clenched, your shoulders halfway to your ears? You don’t need to fix anything. Just notice. That in itself starts to loosen things.
Then move. Gently. A walk, a twist, a sigh, a stretch. Humming. Shaking. Breathing like you mean it. Nothing fancy. Just enough to let the energy find a new path through. Some days it won’t shift. That’s fine too. The work is in noticing, not in forcing. You’re not trying to do something. You’re trying to feel something and let it move.
From a modern wellness lens, this might sound like:
“Do more of what fills your cup. Avoid what drains it.”
That might be people, screens, doomscrolling, deadlines, fluorescent lighting.
Instead: fresh air, good sleep, sunlight, laughter, great food, a walk, music, time alone. It’s not revolutionary advice. But energy doesn’t always need revolution. Sometimes it just needs less interference.
In yogic terms, it’s the same idea, just framed differently. We’re clearing the blocks so prāṇa can move freely. Yoga doesn’t add prāṇa to your system like some sort of spiritual power drink. It clears the channels so what’s already there can move.
• Movement such as flows, twists, and backbends helps shift stagnant prāṇa
• Breathwork directs it more precisely
• Alternate nostril breathing balances the body’s energetic channels
• Humming breath (bhrāmarī) soothes the mind
• Stronger techniques like kapalabhāti stir up energy when you’re feeling stuck
• Bandhas, the subtle “locks” in the body, help lift and direct energy up the spine
• Meditation gathers it. Stillness contains it
• And then there’s lifestyle: food, sleep, screens, nature, people all of them affect your energy field
A fresh apple in the sun gives you more prāṇa than a soggy packet of crisps under fluorescent lights. Now science is simply confirming what we already intuitively know.
My Conclusion (so far)
The way I understand energy (the invisible stuff that keeps me going) is like the electricity in my house. I can’t see it, but it powers everything. When the circuits are clear, the kettle boils, the lights glow, the heating kicks in. When they’re blocked, things short out. Nothing works properly. And if the system overloads? Sparks, smoke, maybe even burnout.
It’s also like Wi-Fi. I don’t think about it when it’s strong. But the moment it drops, I feel the difference. Thoughts buffer. Emotions glitch. That’s when I know it’s time to reset: a walk, a stretch, or a few minutes of breathing like I mean it. All of that helps boost my signal strength.
Prāṇa/energy is about how we live, how we breathe, how we connect. When it flows well, the body heals faster, the mind steadies, and life softens. When it’s blocked, we get tired, tense, wired, disconnected. You feel it in the breath. In sleep. In your jaw, your belly, your inbox.
But it’s not complicated. Just start with noticing. Ask yourself:
What gives me energy?
What drains it?
Where does my breath go when I’m stressed?
What happens when I stop and listen?
The breath isn’t just a breath.
It’s a signal.
It’s a circuit.
It’s a doorway.
Photo by Uriel Soberanes on Unsplash