When Yoga Becomes More Than Shapes

When I first started teaching yoga, I thought my job was to get people into the poses. Not in a performative way, but in the sense that shapes were the language of the practice. Over the years, though, something shifted. I realized that yoga is not just about what happens on the mat. It is about the space we create around it.

After more than a decade of teaching, managing studios, and leading trainings, I have learned the practice is always changing because we are. Tradition gives us the roots. Change keeps it alive.

As teachers, we stand at that intersection every day. We hold onto what has been passed down while making space for the people in front of us. We weave lineage with lived experience. And we adapt not because we are careless with tradition, but because yoga is not a museum piece. It is a living and breathing conversation.

Some days that tension feels heavy. Honoring the weight of where the practice comes from is no small responsibility. Other days it feels freeing. It is an invitation to let the practice meet the present moment as it is. Both feelings are true. Both are necessary.

The classes that stay with me the most are not the ones where everyone nailed the perfect alignment. They are the ones where the room felt alive, where tradition and change coexisted, where people felt seen in their bodies and their stories.

My teaching these days is not about perfecting shapes. It is about creating space. Space to listen to your body, to your breath, and to the cultural context the practice sits in. Space to honor what has come before while making room for what is next.

And maybe that is the heart of yoga. Not the poses. Not the sequencing. But the willingness to sit with both the roots and the branches, the past and the possibility.

How does your own practice create space for both tradition and change?