The anatomy of the body is fascinating. It is so complex and nuanced that modern science, for all its advancements, is often playing catch-up to the intuitive wisdom of the body itself. While biomechanics can explain leverage and force, it struggles to fully account for the “flow state”—that moment where the body surpasses its theoretical limitations. One need only look at the newest record holder for any athletic feat to see that as the human species evolves, we are continually redefining what our limits are.
Crucially, we must understand this through the lens of epigenetics. While our base DNA sequence remains relatively stable, our gene expression—which genes are switched ‘on’ or ‘off’—is fundamentally always changing based on our environment, stress, and behavior. This means we have the opportunity—and the responsibility—to take charge of the direction we go. Our daily actions literally carve out the biological potential of future generations. One may imagine a human being a few thousand years from now that represents the physical capabilities of the superheroes we see in film today, simply because their ancestors chose conscious evolution over stagnation.
In fact, according to human legend and myth, such powerful beings existed in the past (the Maharathis or great warriors), but something went awry in the last few millennia. Human beings began to sink into despondency and lethargy. The desire for greater luxuries made the wealthy complacent. Those who can afford the highest education for their children in the modern age may ironically be passing on a “softened” epigenetic expression—a vitality diluted by comfort—that is physically inferior to its predecessors. Ultimately, every being has the potential to change their future within the paradigm set by their parents, but that change can make or break their offspring.
We talk of the parts of the body as if they were somehow separate from our sense of self. “My knee” or “my ankle” are the terms used, as if we possess these parts like objects in a suitcase. This materialist point of view is exactly the opposite of how we need to start thinking about our physicality. The body is not possessed by you; it is an expression of you—a dense crystallization of the consciousness and genetic history that ‘you’ call yourself.
There are certain fundamental qualities that make up the experience of beings: the avoidance of pain (Dwesha), the seeking of pleasure (Raga), and the confusion when one cannot control these outcomes. These psychological states do not just exist in the brain; they settle into the tissue. I, like many others in the somatic and yogic fields, argue that by changing our mind, we can change the structural expression of the manifested body.
So how can we be conclusive in this matter? Just as the organs exhibit psychology—a concept recognized in Traditional Chinese Medicine and Ayurveda (where the liver houses anger and the kidneys house fear)—the structural joints of the body exhibit qualities dependent on their function. They are the physical anchors of our fight, flight, or freeze responses.
Here we explore the ankle and the knees, as these two joints are fundamental, acting as the primary weight-bearers and the first great hinges of the body.
The Ankle: The Seat of Reaction
The Anatomy: Scientifically, the ankle is the talocrural joint, a synovial hinge that connects the tibia and fibula to the talus bone of the foot. It is a masterpiece of engineering designed for proprioception (the body’s ability to sense its position in space). The ankle is where the rubber meets the road. It is supported by a complex web of collateral ligaments that provide mechanical stability while allowing for dynamic, multi-planar adjustments via the subtalar joint.
The Somatic Reality: Because the ankle is the first point of contact with the shifting earth, it is the first point of reaction. When the fight-or-flight response kicks in for animals, observe how the ankles raise (plantarflexion) and the calves tense up as the creature prepares to spring. The ankle’s role is reflexivity.
In our modern lives, a rigid, stiff ankle often indicates a mind that is “bracing” for impact—a lack of trust in one’s ability to handle the unexpected. The term “to think quickly on your feet” is not just a metaphor; it is a bio-mechanical reality. If the ankle is locked, the mind is usually locked in a reactive loop. Conversely, “to tip-toe” involves a hyper-awareness, a state of careful non-reaction so as to remain undetected.
Just as the careful cat places its paw softly, sensing the terrain before committing its weight, a healthy ankle represents adaptability. It is the physical manifestation of a mind that can navigate uneven ground without losing its center. To prevent dormant Kapha (stagnation) from collecting in this joint, we must challenge our balance. When we wobble, we are learning. By exposing ourselves to unstable environments and learning to stabilize, we cultivate a character that is flexible yet unshakeable.
The Knee: The Threshold of Fear
The Anatomy: The knee is a “slave” joint. Located between the mobile hip and the adaptable ankle, it is a hinge designed primarily for stability. It relies heavily on ligaments (ACL, PCL, MCL, LCL) and menisci (shock absorbers) because the bony fit of the femur and tibia is actually quite shallow. This makes it structurally vulnerable to torque (twisting). If the hip is tight or the ankle is stiff, the knee takes the punishment.
The Somatic Reality: While the ankles handle reactivity, the knees govern the freeze response. We often hear the phrase “their knees buckled” in moments of terror. This is not just a theatrical trope; it is a loss of Apana Vayu (downward grounding energy). When the mind is overwhelmed by fear, the somatic connection to the earth is severed, and the knees—the pillars of our stance—collapse.
We can also observe the “posture of personality” in the knees.
- Valgus (Knock-Knees): Often seen in those who are protective or holding inward. It is a closing off of the groin, a subconscious shielding of the genitals—the “prize fruit” of genetic perpetuation.
- Varus (Bow-Legged): Often indicates a brashness, or perhaps a “ready-for-anything” stance that can border on aggression or stubbornness.
But the greatest enemy of the knee is not impact; it is luxury.
At a social level, modern human beings have largely abandoned the squat. The chair, historically a throne for the powerful, was born out of a desire to elevate oneself above the “dirty” earth. It was a tool of the bourgeoisie to avoid the squatting and kneeling associated with manual labor and the lower classes.
Now that we all possess the luxury of a chair, we have fundamentally lost the tensile strength of our knees. Our hips are constantly in a half-flexed, dormant position, confusing the psoas muscle and weakening the glutes. We have lost the ability to bear the load of our own existence—to run, crawl, and crouch as our ancestors did. We avoid these movements not just because they are hard, but because they trigger a primal fear of vulnerability. Squatting requires us to lower our center of gravity and trust our strength at the deepest range of motion.
When we avoid deep flexion, we are avoiding the reality of our animal nature. The unresolved fear of falling, of injury, or of failing to support ourselves settles in the knees. We attempt to patch this with isolated leg extensions in a gym, but machines cannot replicate the neurological demand of stabilizing a squat. We must address the root: we must leap over the obstacle of doing the things we fear.
To rewrite the code of the body, we must impose new demands upon it.
For the Knees (Conquering Fear): Virabhadrasana (Warrior Pose) and Utkatasana (Chair Pose—the yogic chair, which is effort, not leisure). These poses place the knee in a position of demand. Holding a deep lunge burns through the fear of “I can’t.” It teaches the knee to hold its ground and the mind to endure intensity without collapsing.
For the Ankles (Mastering Reaction): Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward Facing Dog) and Malasana (The Garland Squat). These shapes demand that the heels seek the earth. We lengthen the calf and mobilize the ankle, turning a “stiff” reactive joint into a “responsive” grounding rod.
By understanding the qualities of our manifested body, we cease to be victims of our anatomy and become the architects of it. We work with the tissue to fine-tune the instrument known as the self.
Sarva Mangalam,
Amman Advaita
Amman Advaita 
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