Posted on June 17, 2026 at 12:29 pm
After 20 years of teaching yoga and 30 years of practicing it, one teacher began traveling from city to city leading yoga workshops. In the first city, he taught a powerful contemporary practice with options for accessing difficult poses. Students were encouraged to maintain a steady mind and calm breath throughout any challenge, and to discard any ideas that appeared as easily as they arrived.
The logic behind this approach was that if someone could face challenges on the mat with composure, they could learn to do the same while overcoming unexpected life challenges. In keeping with this approach, the teacher provided options to try out poses that could be considered Instagram-friendly, including arm balances, inversions, and splashing legs behind the head. The teacher knew, of course, that the value of a pose was not dependent on how photogenic it was, but the emphasis was on the challenge inherent in striking the pose.
After the lesson, one of the students approached the teacher and looked worried. “This is not yoga,” she scolded. “Yoga is about stillness, not performance and athleticism. Give us space to listen to our bodies.”
The message reached the teacher. Not wanting to disappoint students in the next city over, he decided to change his approach entirely. He teaches a slower, more expansive introspective practice that includes 30 minutes of gentle breathing, 30 minutes of self-movement, and 30 minutes of Savasana.
After that, some of the students flew away in apparent bliss. But a small group of unhappy students have been demanding refunds. One complaint was that “this has nothing to do with yoga.” “That was just a hippie chillout with some impromptu dancing in the middle,” was another accusation. A third angry student said: “Where was the philosophy? The learning? There wasn’t even any actual education.”
Not wanting his reputation to collapse, the teacher decided to draw more explicitly on the philosophical roots of yoga in his next class. The dusty organ came out, and as he led the students in chanting, the studio filled with sound. He also engaged in contemporary interpretations of ancient yoga texts that talk about suffering, connection, consciousness, and dharma.
The teacher thanked everyone as they left the room, and found that many were moved to tears. But the last student became upset with anger. “That was cultural theft,” he told the teacher. “You are not an Indian and you have no right at all to teach any of this.”
The teacher respectfully apologized. After a sleepless night, he considered that if he was born with the wrong background to teach the finer aspects of the yoga tradition, it would be safer to teach a modern Western version.
So, for his next class, he curated an undeniably lyrical playlist, pulled out a tarot card before class to help students set intention, and filled the fast-paced practice with creative transitions. Then conclude by visualizing A Walking in the forest.
About half the class seemed to still be in a meditative state when they left. The rest had already walked out of class or were complaining loudly after class. “How can we question ourselves when the music is so loud we can’t even hear you speak?” One of the students muttered under his breath. Another added: “And you’re doing a new asana every three seconds.” A third said: “That was a yoga-themed dance class, not a yoga practice.”
As the teacher approached his final class on the tour, he decided to remove anything controversial or polarizing from his teaching. There is no yoga philosophy. There are no “advanced” modes. No music. No Sanskrit. Simply put, awareness of breathing and mental movements designed to strengthen and lengthen the body. He more or less held his breath throughout the training, wondering if the reactions were appropriate and hoping he didn’t offend anyone. At this point, he was seriously wondering whether he should give up his career as a teacher.
After that last chapter, he made the mistake of checking online reviews.
“Where was the discipline? The fire? The challenge?”
“The spirit is absolutely zero. You could also call it an extended category. He didn’t even say ‘Namaste’.”
“If you’re going to teach yoga, at least acknowledge where it’s coming from.”
“There weren’t enough arm scales for me to sweat of any kind.”
“0 stars. He forgot about the massage in Savasana.”
“He didn’t give me specific shapes to accommodate the Lisfranc ligament tear I suffered in 2016.”
“Someone needs to go back to the school of functional anatomy.”
“He is nothing compared to my usual teacher, who won the yogasana championship last year in India.”
“This is not yoga.”
After 30 years of experiencing yoga in his body and 20 years of studying, training, and teaching the practice, he apparently had no idea what yoga was.
Feeling completely defeated, he was waiting at the bus stop on his way home when he saw a community bulletin board full of flyers for yoga classes.
He observed advertisements for a range of classes, from traditional to ultra-modern, from spiritual to secular, from dynamic to reformist. There were methods focusing on devotion, chair yoga, meditation, Book clubsAnd more.
In that moment, he realized that he didn’t need to be everything to everyone. There are billions of people on Earth, each with different histories, cultures, beliefs, bodies, preferences, insecurities, expectations, and desires. Although he was able to truly connect with many students, he was not able to serve everyone. And that’s good.
While still waiting for the bus, he admitted to himself that there will always be students and teachers who position themselves as the final authority on what yoga practice is and is not. Then he did exactly what he suggested to students whose minds wandered in meditation – he acknowledged all the thoughts he had said to himself after the various chapters and then let them pass.
He decided that if he could honestly, and imperfectly, share practices and ideas that resonated with others and helped them navigate life, then maybe that would be enough. It was not universal approval. But she was on duty. And that was the point.
Quote from Aesop’s fable,Man, boy and donkey“.
