The Stories Behind Tittibhasana

In the rich tapestry of yoga philosophy, countless stories have been passed down through generations, each offering unique insights and lessons about ourselves and our world.

These tales, though varied in their versions and interpretations, share a common purpose: to inspire and guide us on our journey of self-discovery and growth.

Today, I share with you two such stories – some different tales of the Tittibha birds (often known as plovers, or lapwings) and the background of Tittibhasana. I hope these narratives awaken your curiosity, inspire reflection, and encourage you to see not only these poses but your own life from a new perspective.

Story One: A New Perspective

We all have patterns we fall into.

Ways of reacting or coping. Ways of speeding through life that become so automatic we stop noticing them altogether. My teacher once called it “hurry sickness,” and honestly, I think about that phrase all the time. Because if you really pay attention, a lot of us are rushing constantly. Driving too fast. Eating too fast. Filling every silence. Moving from one thing to the next without ever fully arriving anywhere.

Sometimes I’ll catch myself speeding in the car and realize:
I’m not even late. There’s nowhere urgent to be. Nothing chasing me. No real reason for the pace I’m moving at. And yet my body keeps acting as though there is.

That’s the strange thing about habit behavior. After enough repetition, the pattern begins running on its own. There’s a Zen story I love to tell about this.

A monk sees a man racing by on horseback and yells,
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”

The man shouts back,
“I don’t know! Ask the horse!”

Yoga philosophy calls these unconscious patterns samskaras.

They are the grooves carved into the mind through repetition. The conditioned loops we return to over and over again: stress, overworking, people pleasing, shutting down, chasing, avoiding, rebuilding the same painful dynamics in slightly different forms. These samskaras prevent us from being able to reach enlightenment.

Think of samskara as like a scratch on a record. The needle hits the groove and instead of moving the song forward, it catches and repeats the same line again and again. And the hardest part is that when you’re inside the pattern, it usually feels normal. Logical, even. So instead of stepping back, we tend to push harder. We try to solve the problem from inside the same mindset that created it.

Meanwhile, the real shift often requires something much simpler:
pause long enough to see what’s actually happening.
To step back.
To gain perspective.
To notice the groove before the needle catches it again.

Our first Tittibhasana story illustrates this beautifully, infact it is one of the stories that inspires the pose. It’s a story about persistence, conditioning, and what happens when we become so trapped in habit that we can no longer see the obvious solution sitting right in front of us.

Once upon a time...

...in ancient India, there lived a pair of small, flightless birds known as Tittibhas. The Tittibha birds, a husband and wife, resided near the ocean. They were small and delicate but known for their a strong sense of duty, work-ethic and resilience.

Tittibha couple would build their nest on the sandy shore of the ocean. But ever year the ocean was was growing bigger, until one day, a high tide swept their nest away. Undeterred, they would rush to rebuild their home. However, every 12 hours, the tide would return and destroy thier next. So on and one, they continued to rebuild their home only to see it destroyed again from the next tide.

The gods, feeling sorry for the Tittibha birds and their relentless struggle, decided to bestow upon them the gift of flight. This gift held the potential to change their lives, allowing them to escape this maddening loop of destruction and rebuilding.

However, the Tittibha birds were so entrenched in their habit behavior that they refused to take a moment to fly up and see their surroundings. They continued rushing to rebuild their nest by the shoreline, unaware that moving just a few feet back could save their home from the rising waters.

Finally, Vayu, the god of the wind, had enough. He decided to intervene. He sent a strong wind down to sweep the Tittibha birds up into the air. As they soared above the shoreline, they gained a new perspective and saw the error of their ways. They realized that if they only moved their nest a few feet back, it would be safe from the high tide.

With this new perspective, the Tittibha birds made the change they needed. They relocated their nest away from the shoreline, where it was safe from the ocean’s waves. This simple shift allowed them to work smarter, not harder, ensuring the safety and stability of their home.

Moral of the Story
The story of the Tittibha birds reminds us how easy it is to get trapped in momentum. To become so busy rebuilding, reacting, coping, striving, and surviving that we never stop long enough to ask: Is this actually working?

Sometimes the most important thing we can do is pause and step back from the noise. To take a bird’s-eye view of our lives and honestly look at the patterns we keep repeating and the places where our energy is constantly leaking away.

Yoga teaches that awareness itself is transformative.

Because once you can clearly see the pattern, you are no longer completely controlled by it. You gain the power to choose differently.
A different response.
A different habit.
A different way of speaking to yourself.
A different place to build your life.

The Tittibha birds thought they needed to become stronger, faster, more tireless in their rebuilding. But the real shift came when they gained perspective. From above, they could finally see what had been invisible from inside the cycle: The ocean was never the problem. The nest was. 

And how often do we do the same thing in our own lives?

Repeating the same exhausting loops while hoping for a different outcome.
​
This story is a reminder that sometimes the smallest shift in perspective can change everything. That healing begins the moment we stop blindly repeating the pattern and start consciously choosing a new direction.

Story Two: One Sip at a Time

When I was a kid and felt overwhelmed by something, my mom used to repeat the same phrase to me over and over:

“How do you drink the ocean?"

And I would reply, "One sip at a time.”

At the time, I thought it was just one of those little parent sayings. A simple way of telling me to calm down when life felt too big. Homework. Heartbreak. Fear. Big emotions that felt impossible to hold all at once.

But recently, those words came back to me in a much deeper way.

This past year, after getting sick and facing a long road of treatment, there were moments where the weight of it all felt crushing. A year sounded impossible. The hospital visits. The medications. The uncertainty. The waiting. The exhaustion of not knowing how things would unfold.

And again, my mom repeated the same phrase she had told me as a child:

“How do you drink the ocean?"

"One sip at a time, mom.”

There’s something profoundly yogic hidden inside that teaching.

In yoga philosophy, transformation rarely happens in one grand moment. It happens through abhyasa: steady, repeated practice. Small actions performed consistently over time. One breath. One choice. One step. Keep going.

​One small moment of courage repeated enough times that eventually it reshapes your entire life.

We suffer when we try to carry the whole future at once. The mind wants to leap ahead, calculate the ending, solve the entire problem immediately. But yoga keeps bringing us back to what is right here:
this breath, this practice, this moment.

The path reveals itself piece by piece.

And interestingly enough, that saying about “drinking the ocean” comes from another ancient story from Indian mythology about our favorite little pair of Tittibhas.

At this point, the birds were happily living by the edge of the sea. But was hungry again for the Tittibhas' nest. So one day, the ocean sprung up and swept away their eggs and the Tittibhas decided to do something absurd: empty the entire ocean one beakful at a time.
​

Once upon a time...

...in ancient India, there lived a pair of small birds known as Tittibhas. The Tittibha birds, a husband and wife, resided near the ocean. They were small, delicate creatures, yet they possessed a strong sense of duty and resilience.

One day, the Tittibha couple decided to lay their eggs on the sandy shore of the ocean. Despite the wife’s concern about the safety of their eggs, the husband assured her that their nest was perfectly safe. He argued that the ocean, vast and mighty, would never reach their humble abode.

However, fate took a different turn. During high tide, a large wave swept in and carried away their eggs into the deep waters. The Tittibha birds were devastated. They mourned the loss of their unborn chicks and were determined to retrieve their eggs.

The Tittibha birds pleaded with the ocean to return their eggs, but the ocean ignored their cries. They then approached other birds and animals, seeking their help to recover the lost eggs. Although many sympathized with them, they were reluctant to challenge the mighty ocean.

Despite the initial refusal from other creatures, the Tittibha birds did not lose hope. They decided to empty the ocean themselves, one beakful of water at a time. Day in a day out, one sip at a time.

The sight of the tiny birds attempting such an impossible task eventually caught the attention of Garuda, the king of birds and the vehicle of Lord Vishnu.

Moved by their perseverance and dedication, Garuda approached the Tittibha birds and asked them why they were engaged in such a futile endeavor. Upon hearing their story, Garuda was deeply touched and decided to help them. He promised to confront the ocean and retrieve their eggs.

With his immense power and authority, commanded the ocean to return the Tittibha birds' eggs. He threatened to dry up the entire ocean if it did not comply. Faced with Garuda’s wrath, the ocean had no choice but to return the eggs to the Tittibha birds.

The Tittibha birds were overjoyed to have their eggs back. Their unwavering determination and the assistance of Garuda ensured the safety of their unborn chicks. This story became a timeless lesson about the power of perseverance, the importance of being seen trying, and the strength of collective effort.

​Moral of the Story

​The story of the Tittibha birds is not really about emptying an ocean. It’s about refusing to give up when something feels impossibly large.

The birds did not know how they would get their eggs back. They only knew they had to keep going. One beakful at a time. One small action repeated again and again in the direction of what mattered most.
That’s the real teaching.

Most meaningful things in life are built this way:
healing, trust, strength, grief, recovery, practice, love.

Not all at once. Not in one breakthrough moment. But slowly. Patiently. Through steady effort that often feels invisible while you’re inside it.

Yoga philosophy calls this abhyasa: devoted practice over a long period of time. The willingness to keep showing up without demanding immediate results. And perhaps the most beautiful part of the story is this:

the moment the birds committed themselves fully, help arrived. Garuda did not appear when they collapsed in despair. He appeared AFTER they began.

Sometimes courage is not knowing you can finish. It’s deciding the task is worthy of you anyway. This story reminds us that even the ocean can be changed little by little. One breath. One step. One sip at a time.

Sources:

First credit to all my teachers, and my teachers' teachers. Thank you for carrying these stories down and trusting them in my care.

Tales of Panchatantra: an incredible resource for all ages
The Talking Myths Project: a free online archive of traditional tales 

About Abbe Ciulla, the Author

Abbe builds spaces where people can move intelligently, feel empowered, and cultivate a sense of belonging. She is the founder of Troy City Yoga, Wonderland Yoga, The Solar Flow Yoga School, and has spent years studying how yoga, movement, environment, and attention can shape the human experience.

Her writing draws from lived experience- teaching, studying, listening, and paying close attention to what helps people feel more regulated, connected, and alive.

​Abbe’s work is less about striving for an ideal and more about creating the conditions where transformation and clarity naturally emerges.