Yoga e natura

Simonetta Sandri · 1 September 2026

Praticare yoga all'aperto. Conversazione con Benedetta Parroni, insegnante di yoga a Roma

Practicing yoga outdoors amplifies the (many) classic benefits of the discipline, creating a unique synergy between body, mind, and the surrounding environment.

There are numerous physical benefits, from stimulating vitamin D production to improving balance and lung capacity through careful and proper breathing during Pranayama (breathing techniques).

There are just as many for the mind and emotions, from reducing stress and cortisol to a sensory awakening that helps anchor you in the present moment and disconnect from daily thoughts. Spending most of the day indoors under artificial lighting fatigues the brain. Direct contact with natural elements restores circadian rhythms and improves sleep quality.

It is also worth adding that direct physical contact with the Earth's surface (for example, with bare feet or hands) allows the transfer of natural electrical charges that help neutralize free radicals and reduce inflammation in the body.

Practicing outdoors also teaches adaptability and mindfulness: indoors, we control lighting, temperature, and silence. In nature, we learn to accept the wind, a sudden ray of sunlight, the sound of the sea, or the rustle of a leaf.

In a frantic daily life dominated by fast paces and closed environments, yoga represents an oasis of rebalancing for the body and mind. But what happens when we decide to roll up our mat and step outside, bringing our practice into direct contact with nature, up to the silence and peaks of the mountains?

To better understand all of this, today we have the pleasure of speaking with Benedetta Parroni, a yoga teacher in Rome who guides many people every day with her passion (she guided me too...) toward discovering this ancient discipline. Benedetta extensively studies the texts of great spiritual guides and practices always, everywhere.

With her, we will talk not only about the fundamental benefits of yoga, but also about the extraordinary regenerative power that movement and breath can have when we disconnect from the city to reconnect with the earth, nature, and the mountains.

The Journey

How did your journey with yoga begin, and what philosophy guides your classes today?

My journey began twenty years ago following severe anxiety attacks. I was going to the gym, but I felt something was missing. The turning point was encountering yoga: reconnecting with every single breath, both in stillness and in movement, felt like coming home. Yoga gave me back my body, taught me to root myself in the present moment, and taught me how to simply be.

From this experience, a practice rooted in deep respect for the body was born. For me, yoga is not about performance, but self-listening and self-knowledge through the body and breath. The key pillars of my vision are:

• The meaning of asana: The term asana means to be in a steady, comfortable position. Yoga originally originated as a meditative practice and transformed over time, integrating many Western influences. Contemporary yoga is mostly postural, but the centrality of breath must not be forgotten: in many dynamic styles, for instance, Ujjayi breath is used to help us stay more centered, prevent us from getting lost in a thousand thoughts, and regulate the nervous system.
• A functional, non-aesthetic approach: We do not seek perfect form, but real benefit. As Tirumalai Krishnamacharya taught: "It is not the person who must adapt to yoga, but yoga that must adapt to the person."
• Inhabiting the body: Quoting Yin Yoga teacher Bernie Clark: "We don't use our body to get into a pose—we use the pose to get into our body."

In a dynamic and often frantic city like Rome, how do people respond when approaching your practice? What are they looking for most?

I notice a deep need to simply be, to move with awareness, listening, and presence—to learn to inhabit and dwell in the body, right here in the present moment.

People arrive on the mat carrying a heavy burden, invisible backpacks on their shoulders. That is why we often begin lying down in Savasana (Corpse Pose), seated in a meditative posture, or standing in Mountain Pose (Tadasana): to activate grounding, anchor ourselves, and return to the present. It is a gesture that helps leave everything outside the room that does not belong to this instant—work, traffic, and the background noise of the day.

It is a search for a safe, quiet space to reconnect with oneself—a safe haven to rediscover oneself, entirely free from the logic of performance.

Which texts by great masters have shaped and inspired you in your yoga practice?

Certainly texts like the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali and Bhagavad Gita, The Roots of Yoga by James Mallinson and Mark Singleton, and those by great 20th-century masters like The Heart of Yoga by T.K.V. Desikachar, The Tree of Yoga by B.K.S. Iyengar, Nectar of Yoga by T. Krishnamacharya, or Awakening the Spine by Vanda Scaravelli.

Not to mention the works and teachings of Zen Master Thích Nhất Hạnh or texts by Buddhist masters.

Benefits of Yoga

Many people approach yoga for physical reasons (flexibility, posture), but then discover so much more. What are the most evident psychological and mental benefits you see in your students?

There are yoga styles that repeat the exact same fixed sequence every time, and other, more contemporary styles that alter it each time based on specific philosophical or physical themes. These are different approaches, but both are perfectly valid.

Constant repetition allows you to memorize the practice, freeing the mind from having to think about the next pose and facilitating a state of meditation in movement. Continuous variation, on the other hand, allows you to adapt the practice to specific anatomical, seasonal, or philosophical themes, keeping attention sharp and curiosity active.

In both cases, the posture is merely the container; what matters is the intention. It is the breath that transforms movement into a true meditative practice.

If you had to recommend yoga to someone who has never unrolled a mat and is skeptical, what three "pillars" of the practice would you explain to them?

I wouldn't talk to them about flexibility or complex poses, but rather about these three pillars:

• An open and curious approach (without expectations): Approach yoga with the curiosity of someone trying something new, without the anxiety of needing to "know how to do it." There is no single way to do yoga: experiment with different styles and teachers until you find your combination. Yoga must adapt to you, not the other way around.
• Self-respect and self-compassion (beyond performance): In a society that constantly pushes us to perform and compare ourselves to others, the mat must become a safe zone. Learn to listen to your body, respect its limits, and trust it. Forget what your neighbor on the mat is doing: stay in your own space, cultivate a gentle attitude toward yourself, and let go of judgment.
• Decompression of the nervous system (returning to oneself): We are constantly overexposed to commitments and social media images that project us into other people's lives, often making us feel inadequate. This keeps our nervous system in a constant state of alert (sympathetic system). Yoga teaches us to breathe and carve out a space of silence to activate the parasympathetic system (that of recovery and calm), granting physical well-being and true peace of mind. Return to yourself.

Is there a posture (asana) or a breathing technique (pranayama) that you consider essential for dealing with everyday stress?

Right when you wake up in the morning: breathe. Carving out a dedicated space to pause and listen to the air coming in and out is the first step toward tuning in with yourself.

In practice, we use different families of asanas, each with its own emotional intention. Therefore, I wouldn't recommend just one. There are grounding and strength poses, such as holding a pose for five breaths, like Warrior Pose or Mountain Pose (Tadasana), which help you find your center. Others are heart openers, useful when feeling down or closed off from the world, functional for reopening to vitality. Or forward folds, ideal when feeling the need for introspection, protection, or looking inward. Finally, twists have strong transformative value because they teach us to turn our gaze in a new direction.

Practice is never rigid: it changes according to life's phases and the resonance of the class. There is no single pose suitable for everyone or every day; instead, it requires continuous listening. Through all of this, the common thread is the Ujjayi breath: that deep sound, resembling the rustling of the sea, maintained throughout the practice to anchor the mind, create internal space, and make room for stillness.

Yoga in Nature and the Mountain Dimension

Today, there is a lot of talk about Shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) and Grounding. What changes when you practice in nature?

Practicing outdoors and in a studio are not mutually exclusive experiences; they complement each other.

In nature, the surrounding beauty can sometimes distract us, but it offers a unique opportunity for direct contact: taking off our shoes and putting our feet on sand, grass, or rock grounds us instantly. We feel the wind and air on our skin—not because they weren't there before, but because we are finally listening. The sounds, sunlight, water, and earth enter within us, amplifying sensations and making us feel like an integral part of the whole. It is a deep sense of reconnection.

We are rarely truly here: our minds tend to slide continuously into the past or future. Immersing ourselves in a space like nature, where space is both physical and mental, allows us to recover contact with ourselves and our surroundings, experiencing that fundamental unity between the individual soul and the universal soul, as the masters of the Upanishads teach us.

This helps us face a deep human struggle: too often, we seek happiness in things that constantly change (attachment to what is pleasant, aversion to what is unpleasant). Nature reminds us that everything is cyclical (the concept of impermanence: Anicca in Buddhism, Anitya in yoga philosophy and Hinduism), teaching us to flow with change rather than oppose it.

Can you tell us about the symbolism of the mountain in yoga?

In yoga, the mountain is a powerful spiritual archetype. The ultimate physical expression of this symbol is found in Tāḍāsana, the Mountain Pose. Although it appears to be a simple asana because it is performed standing, it is actually the technical cornerstone of the entire practice, providing the alignment for almost all other asanas. In Tāḍāsana, the human body literally becomes a mountain: the feet form the stable base and roots, the trunk and arms trace its slopes, while the head rises upward like the peak, making this posture the quintessential symbol of the connection between earth and sky.

On an energetic and philosophical level, the mountain embodies the renunciation of worldly distractions and a vertical drive toward the absolute. In this view, the mountain becomes the perfect bridge to experience the identity between microcosm and macrocosm—the principle that the entire universe is reflected and lives within us. It is no coincidence that in the yogic tradition, the spinal column is compared to Merudaṇḍa, the cosmic axis identified with the sacred Mount Meru; for the yogi, climbing this inner mountain means drawing energy up the body to elevate consciousness from matter to spirit.

This same verticality is reflected in history and myth, as mountains have always been temples of silence and isolation. The first yogis were ascetics who chose to retreat among peaks and caves specifically to seek enlightenment away from the noise of the valleys. This ancient link finds its highest expression in the figure of Śiva, the first yogi, whom myth perpetually depicts atop Mount Kailash, still and absorbed in an eternal, deep, and silent meditation—just like the mountain itself.

What was the most moving natural location where you have guided a practice?

Every place possesses its own magic. Every space offers a different emotion and energy, holding its own energetic and transformative value.

There is the magic of the mountain's profound silence and vast open spaces that widen your horizon; there is the feeling of protection you experience simply sitting or lying on the ground, wrapped in the presence of surrounding trees. All it takes is stopping and listening to perceive the unique beauty of each environment.

One of the places I carry in my heart is Ladakh, nestled among the Himalayan peaks. With its striking perched Buddhist monasteries, majestic snow-capped peaks, peaceful grazing yaks, pristine high-altitude lakes, and boundless spaces, this land invites contemplation, instilling peace and silence in the soul.

We leave you with one final thought: you don't need to go far to rediscover contact with yourself and your environment. Just take the first step, take a deep breath, and let yourself be guided by nature—whether it is a city park or a mountain peak.

Images by Benedetta Parroni, India, Ladakh

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