I’ve stopped saying this common reference when I teach yoga. And here’s why.

As a yoga teacher, I have always prioritized helping students take ownership of their experience in my classes. I want people to feel independent in their practice, so I’ve learned to offer lots of options and encourage them to pause or choose a different expression of the pose.

However, somewhere along the way, I started relying too heavily on one cue: Do what’s good.

I was trying to create space for the students in their practice, to avoid being overly directive with my alignment cues, and to support all bodies in the room. I felt like it was a way to keep things accessible to everyone. It seemed like thoughtful teaching, because it is.

Although I’ve recently realized, as a student on the receiving end of this signal, that what feels good isn’t always what’s best for my body. I’m recovering from a back injury, and I’m noticing that stretching feels good. Specifically, finding depth in familiar shapes is a good thing. But for me, focusing on what felt good took me away from the more challenging aspects of strengthening my core and glutes to support my back, which is what I needed, the work.

So I had to admit to myself that, left to my instincts, I wasn’t always choosing what supported me. I would choose what seemed familiar and easier. This is not always what I need from my practice.

This made me look at my habits as a teacher. Was I defaulting to this cue in the same way I was defaulting to certain movement patterns in my practice—that is, because it was familiar and easy? So, was using “do good” actually supporting my students or was it preventing them from enhancing their abilities, like me, or exploring things that would help them grow?

How my understanding of the sign changed

In the past few years, “do what feels good” has become very popular in the yoga space, creating spaces that are inclusive and allow people to make choices. He is important. Not everyone will use this sign the way I’ve seen it appear for me and some of my students, it’s adorable for a reason, and it can be supportive. However, what you saw about me was I I started using this sign as a way to create inclusivity and accessibility, but I made it a way to give students permission to do less than they needed to.

As I confronted myself and thought about things, I realized that I was relying on them more and more as a substitute for explicit teaching. I used to rely on “do what feels good” as a way to avoid planning or thinking fully through a sequence, and as a familiar and easy alternative when I wasn’t sure what to point to next. Sometimes I found that my fear of saying too much, or pointing in a way that didn’t seem to suit all bodies, or saying things that only suited certain bodies, led me to revert to the familiar saying, “Do what feels good.” This can create a lot of freedom for students who really want guidance.

I still think the signal has merit. However, at a certain point, it has the potential to stop being empowering and start being ambiguous.

Students come to yoga classes to move their bodies, and some value independence and permission in their practice. But they also come for instructions on how to move, where to move, and when to move. These instructions are important.

How I changed my teaching

I never stopped saying “Do what is good.” But I stopped starting with it and instead started including more specific options. There are several things that have supported me in finding this middle ground.

I started walking around the room more and observing how people worked out instead of assuming they would find whatever stretching or strengthening they needed simply by wishing them that.

It has also changed the way I prepare to teach. Instead of quickly running through a sequence in my head to memorize it, I started practicing it more than once, moving through each pose intentionally—not just testing the look but actually feeling it. This has helped me be more intentional about the different variations I can share with students and how long it takes to get to them.

I gave more specific instructions again, and had to rethink how I could be more intentional in pointing and what I could do to help the students find the form of the pose in a way that supports their bodies while making sure they know that any movement is ultimately their choice.

In other words, I went back to teaching.

What I’ve learned is that providing guidance doesn’t take away from independence, it can actually support it. Because when students are given specific choices and experience them, they learn to adjust and understand what is available to them beyond what feels good to them. I still use the phrase “do what’s right.” I don’t rely on it the same way anymore. Now it comes after the instructions, not instead of them.