Yoga worries me. My fears are twofold. The first is that I’ll tie myself into an unrecoverable knot and will end up living the rest of my days with my legs hooked over my shoulders. The second is that during the relaxation period I’ll fall asleep and snore. It has already happened once.

That humiliating episode occurred while I was still in school, half-alifetime ago. The passage of two decades has done little to erase the mortification of opening my eyes to find the entire class sitting up on their mats laughing at me.

Yet 20 years is barely an eyeblink in the timeline of yoga, and the personal embarrassment of one individual pales against the path to enlightenment that it has provided for millions.

Yoga is about much more than contortions and meditation. From its earliest beginnings, 5,000 years ago in India, it has sought to facilitate harmony between mind, body and spirit, and to unify each individual practitioner with the whole of creation. The route to these lofty ideals was mapped out in The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, written around A.D. 200, which defined the “eight limbs of yoga” — probably the world’s first eight-step program.

Ancient Eastern philosophy does not graft easily onto our modern Western way of life. The first limb proclaims five abstentions: Practitioners must refrain from violence, deceit, theft, promiscuity and materialism. The second limb lists five observances: purity, contentment (preferably without Prozac), austerity (there goes the BlackBerry), study, and the celebration of the Divine.

It is the third limb that is most commonly adopted by Western yoga enthusiasts: the asanas, or body postures.

Back in my school days, I regarded these as little more than a form of mild exercise, and a chance to show off my youthful flexibility. I am no longer as supple as I was, so today even the easiest yoga maneuvers are accompanied by the creaking of bones and the straining of muscles, as well as the nagging dread that I’ll get myself into a position of no return.

But in fact, this awareness of the body’s limitations is one of the purposes of the asanas. Bending and stretching into ungainly poses is a means of uniting the mind and body.

Aches and pains are part of the dialogue.

In the midst of all this, the fourth limb of yoga comes into play: breath control. Usually, breathing is accomplished on a subconscious level. In yoga, the mind takes control reminding us to inhale and exhale in deliberate, rhythmic patterns. The lessons learned here can be applied to many sports, increasing stamina and aiding concentration.

The final four limbs are predominantly cerebral. The fifth aims to control the senses. The sixth is the ability to focus the mind. The seventh is meditation, and the eighth — the most elusive step, which can take a lifetime to achieve — is union with the Divine.

For Indian mystics with time on their hands, ultimate spiritual enlightenment is an achievable goal. But even for those of us who don sweat pants and try to squeeze in an hour or two of yoga during the course of a busy week, yoga is an aid to physical and mental well-being. It is no surprise that it has become an integral part of the exercise regimens of many sports stars.

The awkward manipulations on the yoga mat get easier with practice, and at the end of each session there is the rare opportunity to lie back guiltfree and do absolutely nothing for several minutes. All cares and worries drift away. Even the irrational fear of yoga itself.