THE DETACHED YOGA

During a home practice of ashtanga yoga sequence another day, I experienced an event which I called: the Detached Yoga. The term doesn't pretend to be a "new concept" or anything like that. It was just a term that came up to me when trying to describe the experience of my practice on that day.
In the detached yoga, there is a space (not a separation!) between the body moving and a certain 'entity' inhabiting the body, which I call 'the Self' (or the 'I').
'I' as the Self observe the body moving, realising the ashtanga sequence, but 'I' am not affected by the efforts of the body. In a way, the body moves in effort, but I stay effortless. My breathing is calm, deep and steady, while the body moves sometimes quickly and sometimes slow, sometimes soft, sometimes with resistance. But I stay constant. I observe the body from a certain distance, and I also observe the thoughts that come and go, the feelings that come and go, and I don't identify mySelf with them; I only acknowledge them. 
In the detached yoga, I don't identify mySelf with the feeling of frustration or failure of not getting to do a certain movement or to keep the balance; I don't identify mySelf with the feeling of proudness neither of getting to achieve something;
I don't identify mySelf with the feeling of pressure for anything, or with the feeling of ambition to go an extra mile, because there is nothing to conquer or to overcome;
I also don't identify mySelf with the limits or with the pain of the body;
I don't identify mySelf with the unbalance, because the 'I' who inhabits the body is steady, calm and constant. Why should I lose my balance when I can fly?
Finishing the practice, I conclude that the "detached yoga" is actually Yoga itself. And that Yoga is beyond a physical practice. It's the attitude of being, it's the beingnes itself. 
It's present everywhere and at every time, because it's you, it's your Self. Everything changes around me, things come and go, feelings come and go, experiences come and go, life and death come and go, but 'I' stay constant, steady, observing but not identifying. I play effortlessly with the changeable world, like a dance. Everything pass and go, but 'I' stay, unchangeable.