The Second Hindrance: Aversion. Hostility. Resistance.
Dear Friend,
This is part of a series on the five hindrances, recurring patterns of mind that obscure clarity and pull us away from the present moment. You can go back and read about the First Hindrance: Wanting. Craving. Desiring.
The hindrances come from Buddhist teachings, but I find them relevant to yoga as well. I’m interpreting them here through the lens of the yoga tradition and lineage that I follow as well as my own subjective take. Other traditions may approach them differently. In my experience, the most useful way to engage with contemplative teachings is to test them against our own experience rather than trying to fit our experience into predetermined claims.
The second hindrance
The second hindrance, vyāpāda in Pāli, is conventionally translated as ill will or hostility, though it is often referred to as aversion. It is commonly described as the mirror image of craving: the tendency to push away what we find unpleasant or undesirable. These are important aspects of the hindrance, but I find it useful to approach it more broadly, looking at the many ways resistance shapes our relationship with experience.
Aversion does not always appear as anger or obvious dislike; it is often more subtle. It can be a contraction in the body, an undercurrent of impatience, a vague unease, or a steady insistence that things should be different from how they are. It is as if we were wearing an invisible shield, constantly pushing away whatever—or whoever—does not align with how we think things should be.
This resistance can create considerable distress, generating friction within ourselves and in our relationship with the world around us. We may experience it in the body, the breath, and the mind.
Not everything we resist is something we should learn to accept. Some situations are genuinely unacceptable, and moving away, setting a boundary, or taking action may be entirely appropriate. There is no virtue in cultivating a masochistic relationship with discomfort or assuming that enduring unpleasant experiences is inherently worthwhile.
Trouble arises when the tension outlasts the situation. The problem may be resolved, yet the mind keeps revisiting it, rehearsing for similar encounters, and bracing for threats that may never come. Over time we become vigilant by default, carrying unease even when nothing is wrong.
This is the distinction at the heart of the teachings: the unpleasantness of an experience and our resistance to it are not the same thing. We can’t always avoid pain, disappointment, or uncertainty. But we can learn to see the layers of tension that appear when we strongly wish for things to be otherwise. That doesn’t mean accepting everything. It means seeing clearly, including our own reactions, so that we can respond rather than simply react.
Resistance to our resistance
With practice, we can begin to recognize aversion closer to the moment it arises. We may also notice how we react to it. We may judge ourselves for feeling irritated, replay the situation endlessly, or get frustrated that we can’t just let it go. In other words, we develop resistance to our resistance.
This creates a snowball effect. Our attempts to get rid of an unpleasant state generate more tension, which reinforces the very condition we wanted to escape. Recognizing this vicious cycle is an important part of the practice.
How to observe aversion
There are two complementary ways to approach this hindrance.
Mindfulness means observing experience as it unfolds, without immediately judging, interpreting, or reacting. Rather than becoming absorbed in our thoughts about it, we try to see what is actually there.
Contemplation means using the idea of aversion as a framework for meditative inquiry. When discomfort or resistance arises, we ask: What are we reacting to? What are we trying to push away? What assumptions or expectations might be contributing to our response?
Together, they turn the teachings from an idea or an intellectual pursuit into a way of investigating our own body and mind experientially.
Listening to the body
The body often registers aversion before the mind responds to it: a tight belly or chest, a clenched jaw, a change in temperature, breath, or heartbeat.
Rather than explaining or fixing these sensations, we can simply observe them. What does the tension actually feel like? Does it stay constant or shift? Does it spread, sharpen, or soften? What happens when we give it attention without trying to make it disappear?
This kind of inquiry can reveal how much of our experience is shaped by our habitual ways of relating to it.
We can become so absorbed in our interpretations of experience, shaped by thoughts, memories, and projections, that we lose touch with what is happening in the present moment. Instead of feeling a sensation directly, we may immediately label it, judge it, or construct a story around it.
We can try feeling a sensation before naming it, or hearing a sound before deciding whether we like it. This doesn’t mean abandoning thought, which we need in many parts of life. It means noticing how concepts, beliefs, and expectations shape how we feel. We can then begin to distinguish between an experience itself and our interpretation of it.
On the mat
Yoga gives us a ready-made laboratory. We can notice how we respond to different poses and movements. Some feel pleasant; others feel uncomfortable. Some come easily, while others challenge us.
Imagine you’re holding a demanding pose and the teacher says, “Five more breaths.” Notice what happens. Perhaps your jaw tightens. Perhaps a voice says this is too long, or I’m the only one struggling, or why does he always do this? The breath shortens. You glance at the person next to you.
None of this is wrong, and your reaction may be a valid signal that you need to modify or even come out of the pose. But before making a choice, you can feel the tension, notice the internal commentary, and see the urge to react. That brief moment of awareness is a step toward greater freedom and being less trapped in reactivity.
The same inquiry applies to the space around us: someone encroaching on your mat, a teacher whose style doesn’t resonate, a pace that feels too slow or too fast. Our initial reactions can be useful sources of information. The deeper inquiry comes afterward, in the waves that follow. Can we notice them without feeding them? Can we tell what genuinely needs attention from what is just a familiar pattern coming online?
It works off the mat too. Someone speaks loudly while you’re trying to rest, and irritation arises, followed by thoughts about how inconsiderate they are. You may still decide to address the situation. But if you first notice the tension, the thoughts, and the urge to react, you gain a little space between experience and response.
Habits of meeting experience
We each have a default way of relating to what we experience. Some of us are quick to spot what’s wrong or what might go wrong next. Others lean more toward the positive and move quickly past anything unpleasant. Neither is a problem in itself. We get into a bind when it becomes the only way we meet life as it unfolds.
When aversion dominates, we can lose sight of what is good in our lives. When pleasantness dominates, we can overlook difficulties that need attention or avoid self-reflection that may deepen our understanding of what is going on. Either way we lose some of the fullness of experience. As we recognize our dominant patterns, they begin to loosen their grip. We may also gain valuable insight into the workings of our mind that can benefit us in many ways.
A simple practice
Next time you notice irritation, resentment, or resistance, try this:
Pause and take three slow breaths.
Locate the reaction in your body. Where is it strongest?
Feel it directly, in its raw texture.
Describe it in plain sensation: tight, hot, heavy, buzzing.
Ask yourself what you are resisting right now.
Choose your response, whether that’s action, a boundary, or simply letting it be.
You don’t have to make the feeling go away. The point is to see it clearly.
This is a gradual process. It requires patience, curiosity, and a willingness to keep examining how we relate to experience. We are not trying to eliminate our reactions or become perfectly equanimous. We are learning to recognize them more clearly and to have greater freedom in how we respond.
Happiness, in the Buddhist sense
The aim of Buddhist teachings is simple, even though the practice itself is not: to cultivate well-being and reduce unnecessary suffering. In other words, to be happy.
The intention is not to prevent aversion or craving from arising. It is to recognize them in the body and mind without automatically acting on them or piling layers of reactive tension on top. They may still arise, sometimes with intensity, but we are no longer compelled to follow every impulse.
We often assume that happiness depends on getting what we want and avoiding what we don’t. Yet even in pleasant moments we may already be bracing for the end or expecting something better, and when things go badly, aversion adds its own layer of distress. From this perspective, happiness is less about arranging life to suit our preferences and more about an inner state of steadiness, clarity, and ease: the capacity to stay connected to experience without being constantly thrown off balance by it.
Pleasant and unpleasant. Praise and blame. Success and failure. We learn to meet them all with a little more space and a little less resistance.
So the next time you catch yourself resisting something or someone, on the mat or off it, pause and ask: What am I actually resisting? What does it feel like in my body? What thoughts or expectations accompany it? And what happens if, just for a moment, I let the experience be without immediately trying to push it away?
The situation may not have changed. But your relationship with it has.
If you find yourself curious about these kinds of topics - join a workshop, a retreat, or any other event on offer.
Looking forward to sharing yoga with you!
Wishing everyone peace and happiness,
♡ Oren
Check out the entire Newsletter:
Comments