Namaste: Why This Simple Word Might Be The Key To Real Connection

“Namaste” is often said at the end of a yoga class—but what if it could shape the way we move through the world? In his upcoming book Living Namaste, author and professor Jeremy Engels explores how this familiar phrase can become a daily practice for building deeper connection, compassion, and community. We caught up with Jeremy to talk mindfulness, meaningful relationships, and how to truly live the word—not just say it. —Noa Nichol

You argue that “Namaste” has become much more than just a polite closing to a yoga class. What was the specific moment or observation that led you to realize this Sanskrit greeting could be a blueprint for building healthier communities?

In addition to being a college professor, I am also a longtime yoga and meditation teacher (with my wife Anna and several friends I co-founded Yoga Lab in State College, PA). We say “namaste” at the end of yoga classes, but many people don’t know what it truly means. Namaste is a reminder that there is something divine, worthy, and luminous in each of us. Over the past decade, I’ve discovered that when I explain to my students what namaste means, they are more likely to open up and connect to each other at the end of class. Observing this time and time again convinced me that namaste was a bridge to greater connection between people both on and off the yoga mat.

Your book is organized around three reminders, starting with “I am divine”. Why is recognizing one’s own divinity a non-negotiable first step before we can effectively foster deeper connections with others?

We often imagine the divine to be distant and otherworldly. It’s not. It’s very human, and it’s here right now. We are divine, just as we are right now, because there is something precious and wonderful inside of each of us – what meditation teachers call “awareness.” This is the ability that all of us have to be fully present with an experience without immediately judging it or reacting to it or having our minds, and hearts, be carried away by it. Awareness is the ability to simply be with whatever is. We touch the divine within by practicing mindfulness.

To touch the divine within is not an abstract philosophical exercise. It is an embodied practice of noticing and then actively cultivating our potential for mindful awareness, so that we gain greater clarity and respond more wisely to life. Because living namaste is a practice, it must start with ourselves before we can build deeper connections with others. Our personal practice is the strong foundation on which we build community that upholds the dignity and respect that all people deserve.

While “I bow to the divine in you” is a beautiful sentiment, how do we practically apply this in a high-stress, modern daily interaction—like a difficult work meeting or a tense family dinner?

A common mantra in mindfulness practice is “there is only the present moment, it is a wonderful moment.” Of course, not all moments seem wonderful—some are stressful and tense. But the present moment is a wonderful moment because we are alive, and because even in stressful and tense situations we have the capacity to touch the divine within—i.e., our mindful awareness. From this perspective, challenging situations are the mud from which the lotus flower of awareness blooms. Moments when emotions (and maybe voices!) rise are the ideal times to practice our capacity for connecting to the divine within ourselves. In such situations, pause for a moment. Feel the earth under your feet. Take a couple of deep breaths to come back to your center. Watch your thoughts and feelings arise and then fall away. Then look at the situation anew. Remember that the person you’re engaging with is more than a label or a stereotype. They are more than their anger or fear. They are a person with a rich life, full of joy and sorrow, just like you, and just like you, they want to be happy and free from suffering. See if this shifts your perspective on the interaction from confrontation to compassion. I bet it will help.

You suggest that living the word together can strengthen relationships. In our current “fractured world,” how does the practice of svadhyaya (self-study) help individuals move past their own biases to find common ground with their neighbors?

Study yourself, and you’ll notice that everything in the world – including yourself – is perpetually in motion. It’s impossible to sit completely still, for as long as we are alive our hearts are beating and our lungs are breathing. Life is in constant motion. When you look deeply, you see that everything is always changing, and it’s changing together, in a complex dance of individuals and ensembles. I call this realization “interdependence” (one of my teachers, the Vietnamese Zen monk Thich Nhat Hanh, called it “interbeing”). In this culture we’re taught to experience the world as isolated individuals in competition with others. But when we practice svadhyaya, we realize that we belong to each other. We are not separate; we are interconnected. We share the same air, the same breath, and the same aims. All of us want to be happy and to be free from suffering. Sadly, we’re conditioned to experience happiness like an apple pie with a limited number of slices, get yours while you can so someone else doesn’t eat it first. To practice meditation is to awaken from this illusion to a deeper truth: as we pursue happiness, we go together. The insight into interdependence resides at the heart of Living Namaste, and this insight naturally turns us toward others, toward community, and toward communal effort to reduce the suffering of the world.

Your previous work explored “Mindful Democracy” and the “Declaration of Interdependence”. How does Living Namaste act as the practical, “on-the-ground” guide for the philosophical ideas you presented in 2026?

We’re living in a time of polarization, burnout, and civic despair. In my book On Mindful Democracy: A Declaration of Interdependence to Mend a Fractured World (Parallax Press) I was inspired by the 250^th anniversary of the signing of the original Declaration of Independence to rewrite it as a Declaration of Interdependence. I did this to remind my readers that democracy only works when we remember that we belong to one another. Democracy is not a war between political parties, and it does not happen only in Washington. Democracy is a communal practice of working together with others to care for ourselves, each other, and the life that we share. And democracy does not work without mindfulness. Mindfulness teaches us to see clearly, listen deeply, and act with compassion — all of which are essential democratic skills. Both books are about remembering who we are and how deeply we belong to one another. Living Namaste focuses on personal and relational transformation. On Mindful Democracy expands that lens to our civic life. Together, they offer a path toward more compassionate individuals, more connected communities, and a more resilient democracy. 

You offer strategies to develop self-awareness and compassion. Is compassion a “muscle” that needs specific exercises to grow, and what is one simple mindfulness meditation from the book that can jumpstart that process?

I like the metaphor of strength training or physical activity for considering compassion and love. It makes sense to me as a yoga teacher. If you want a stronger core, you can’t just think about it; you have to practice (and your core needs to be strong if you’re going to fully embrace this miracle life!). The same is true for love and compassion. Each of us has the capacity for these emotions, just as we have the capacity for hatred and resentment. We become what we practice, so why not practice the best parts of ourselves? The classic practice for building compassion and love is metta, or loving-kindness meditation, and I find myself practicing and teaching this type of meditation often these days. I deliberately practice imagining other people—from dear friends to strangers—as beings worthy of dignity and respect, who deserve and respond to love and compassion. I ask my students to recognize that the other people they’ve imagined are not really “other” at all, because our fates are intertwined. We belong to one another. I hope that this new sense of belonging becomes a compassionate call to action for building communities of care.

Part of the practice involves guiding readers toward “presence and gratitude”. How does being truly present change the “vibe” of a community, and have you seen this transformation firsthand at Yoga Lab?

I invite my students at Yoga Lab to give themselves permission to be fully present for however long they are in the room. I remind them that for the next hour, there is no place else they need to be, and nothing else they need to be doing.  And I ask them to put away and silence their phones. It’s amazing what happens when people are truly present in community – they begin breathing together, they smile more and are quicker to laugh, and they naturally lend their support to others when they stumble. So many of the aches and pains of modern living could be transformed simply by learning (or re-learning) how to be present together!

One of your goals is to support “mutual growth”. How do we ensure that our personal growth doesn’t become an isolated journey, but rather one that elevates those around us?

We do it together! It’s easy to practice yoga and meditation alone, with videos on YouTube or apps on the phone. This might be fulfilling for a time, but people come to yoga studios and meditation communities (sanghas) because they miss practicing together. So my advice is to find a place in your community where you can practice with other people. Show up and be fully present. Talk with others about their journeys. Learn what you can from them, and share what you’ve learned if they are willing to listen. Begin looking at personal growth as a collaboration between yourself and others, rather than something you do in isolation or in competition with others. And notice how your actions that elevate others also elevate yourself. If you look clearly at things, you’ll see that this life is so much more joyful, and less painful, when it’s lived with others. That’s why we live the word.

You mention that the book helps readers cultivate “thoughtful responses”. In a world of instant digital reactions, how can the principles of “Namaste” help us pause and choose empathy over outrage?

Mindfulness helps us pause before we spiral. It teaches us to notice when we’re getting hooked by fear, outrage, or hopelessness — and to return to clarity. In Living Namaste, I offer practices for consuming news without being consumed by it, and for engaging online in ways that are grounded, ethical, and humanizing.

We are what we consume, whether it’s the food that becomes our cells, the air that moves our bodies, or the content that forms our consciousness. When engaging with social media content, ask yourself, how does it make you feel in your body? Is it nourishing, like a good healthy meal full of vegetables, or does it make you feel sick, like too much overprocessed junk food? Noticing what we consume online, and how it makes us feel, is a good practice – for one way to cultivate thoughtful responses online is to be more thoughtful about the content we engage with. Many spaces are engineered to promote mindlessness and outrage; a good practice is to avoid these spaces and to engage with content that is more wholesome and nourishing. And then, when engaging online, remember to pause before responding and to consider what you say. Remember that words matter, and they have consequences. They can heal, and they can hurt; they can bring us closer together, and push us further apart. The online attention economy conditions us to treat others as though they are nameless, faceless avatars or bots, rather than real life breathing beautiful human beings. What would happen if you engaged with others online as though they were divine beings worthy of dignity, respect, and compassion? I think that the whole ecosystem would change.

With the book launching on June 16, what is the one “Practical Strategy” you hope readers implement immediately after finishing the first chapter to start building a more supportive community?

Slow down. Take a deep breath. Notice that you are not alone. And cultivate hope that by setting down the path of Living Namaste things can change for the better. Sometimes people ask me what gives me hope right now, and the answer is simple: People. I see so many individuals — students, activists, parents, teachers, neighbors — who are hungry for connection, for healing, and for a more compassionate world. When we slow down, breathe, and truly see one another, hope becomes something we practice, not something we wait for.