A Break from Yoga

A few months ago I noticed a change in myself. I became more excited at the thought of going to the local gym full of artificially engineered badass muscle guys than chanting my oms at the yoga local studio. Soon, I had traded my five-minute instantaneous relaxation bliss for a fifteen-minute AB-RIPPER killer core workout. Something was off, especially considering that yoga has pretty much been my life for the last decade.

At first I thought that neglecting my practice and making such an illogical move would cause my students, my classes, and my own being to suffer. (Guilt always comes in handy and travels faster than the speed of light.) Since, however, I am trying to approach life in a more natural way, without automatic and “supposed to” responses, I kept teaching yoga while secretly diving into the world of push-ups, chin-ups, pull-ups, the elliptical, the treadmill, dumbbells, and workout gloves. But as my biceps were bulging and my six-pack erupting, I began to understand why this break from yoga was much needed. Let me explain.


I see yoga as a means to an end rather than an end itself. I constantly see the media and celebrities and YouTube sensations approaching the practice as the final goal. When I see yoga becoming bigger than God or an individual searching for self-realization—becoming an artificial emporium of must dos and don’ts—I don’t like what I see. Lately, when I look around and see everything that yoga represents, I don’t identify with it. It scares the bliss out of me.

The practice of yoga is becoming a way of worshipping the body and perpetuating stereotypes and misconceptions. The focus is limited only to intensity and results, an almost scientific approach to the postures, and an anal need for alignment in order to get the postures “right.” At times what is considered “yoga” these days shamelessly neglects the importance of a balanced practice that includes physical postures, breath, meditation, and compassionate and proactive enlightened action on and off the mat.

All of that scares the peace out of me and at moments makes me want to break away from that trend.

I think that teachers can inspire students not because we can wrap our feet around our head but because we put one foot in front of the other day after day, trying to realize our full potential as loving sentient beings while helping others by providing them with the safe environment in which to work on their bodies and minds in a healthy, conscious way. I think that should be our legacy, our commitment.

I long for yoga teachers who see themselves as facilitators and not TV entertainers. I long for a yoga community that sees postures with a clear mind that knows that the asanas are just one of many ways to keep the body healthy, the mind open, and the heart warm. Although we teach postures, we should remind ourselves that the teachings and experiences we provide can and must reach much more than just the four corners of our students’ mats.

The reality is that this practice is in our hands. In each of us who approach the practice humbly and wholeheartedly cause life wears us down sometimes. The reality is that true meaning of this practice can’t be put into words—it can only be experienced in the intimacy of your own breath. There will always be external and internal distractions as well as different, better, and worse approaches than yours. There will be cycles when you feel like practicing every day, and months when you practice once a week or not even that.

I always think is helpful to remind ourselves why we practice and to listen to those answers and see if they really make sense. And if the time comes that you feel you need a break, even a break from yoga, take it. It probably will help you return to your practice with a clearer understanding of the beauty of yoga and fall in love with it all over again.
I did.