19/07/2025
แด สษชแดแดสแด สษช๊ฑแดแดสส แด๊ฐ แดแดแด
แดสษด สแดษขแด: แดกสแดแด แดษดแด แดแดแดแดสแดส สแด๊ฑ ๊ฑแดแดษด (แดษดแด
๊ฐแดสแด)
๐๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ด ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ ๐บ๐ฐ๐จ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐จ๐ช๐ฏ๐ดโ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ด๐ช๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ.
My first introduction to yoga was in Montreal, sometime in the late 1970s, when I walked into the Sivananda Centre and was met with something that felt ancient, solemn, and yet almost dull. The teachers wore loose-fitting orange clothes. There were no mirrors, no playlists, no brand names, just asana, breath, mantra, and stillness. Yoga was a path inward then.
By the early 2000s, a shift had begun. After I opened my yoga studio, I noticed yoga studios were popping up like mushrooms, and along came Lululemon. Then came the wave of registration standardsโ200, 300, and 500-hour programs, introduced by the Yoga Alliance, not to deepen the practice but to systematize it. Teachers were being given the title 'registered', creating the impression that they were professionally certified. The lineage and lived experience were all reduced to registered hour counts. What was once a lifelong path of study and inner transformation had become something that can be completed in a few weekends and added to your rรฉsumรฉ.
Over time, the change deepened. Yoga had become trendy, and practitioners felt the need to present a particular image, often wearing tight little tops and hip-hugging leggings. Women were lured to yoga to achieve a slim, sexy, and confident appearance, bringing the body to the forefront of the practice, not just for health and flexibility but also for display.
As yoga became trendier, especially with the rise of practices like hot yoga and power vinyasa, professionals from outside the tradition began to join in: doctors, dancers, sports therapists, and psychologists. As a result, yoga therapy started gaining popularity, and with it came the push to regulate. The IAYT was created to bring structure and credibility, while also controlling how yoga was being defined. Slowly, yoga shifted from a spiritual path to something that needed to fit into clinical or professional frameworks.
Eventually, social media became essential and louder. Yoga Instagram exploded with images of impossible arm balances, hyper-extended splits, dramatic backbends, and gravity-defying contortions that are akin to acrobatics. Some of them are beautiful. Some of them are deeply skilled. But many of them are very far from the essence of yoga.
Tattoos began to appear as part of the yoga teacher aesthetic, often paired with crop tops that showcased chiselled tummies. Students were comparing bodies. Mala beads became a must-have fashion accessory in yoga classes.
Around the same time that kirtan (devotional singing) was gaining popularity in some yoga circles, there was also a strong push in mainstream studios to remove God and spirituality from yoga altogether. Anything that hinted at devotion, mantra, or traditional philosophy was seen as too religious or too Eastern. Politically correct yoga requires studios to be neutral, more marketable, and safe for everyone. But in the process, they were often stripped of their deeper meaning. What was once a sacred path rooted in the Divine was rebranded as a workout, a lifestyle, or a tool for self-improvement. In making yoga more "accessible" to everyone's sensibility, we lost something essential.
There was also a growing trend to step away from lineage altogether. Many teachers began creating hybrid styles or rebranding yoga as their own without any connection to a living tradition. Some of this was a response to scandals or a desire for independence, but in rejecting lineage, we also lost the grounding, depth, and humility that come from studying within a system that's bigger than us. Yoga became more eclectic and individualistic, but often less anchored in wisdom.
These days, what is often referred to as breathwork is typically focused on emotional release, stress relief, or enhancing one's sense of vitality. Breathwork has its place, but it doesn't replace traditional pranayama, which is more than just breath control. An ultimate tool for inner stillness and transformation, pranayama is a subtle, layered practice designed to purify the body's energy and quiet the mind, not just self-soothing. Breathwork might feel powerful, even dramatic, but pranayama was never about sensation. It's about perception.
Somatic work has brought more sensitivity, slower movement, and a deeper connection to what's happening inside. For many students and teachers alike, it's offered a way out of the push-and-perform mindset. These qualities were already part of yoga. For some practitioners, it just wasn't always the primary focus. But traditional yoga always included deep listening, inner awareness, and a grounded presence in the body. At its core, yoga has always held what we now call somatic work. It is now framed differently to meet modern nervous systems. Yoga has invariably been pointing us beyond the body, beyond the mind, beyond emotions and sensation, and far beyond the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.
Unfortunately, in modern yoga, the focus shifted from the breath to the form. From the subtle to the visible. From inner awareness to outer performance. New and more complex asanas continued to be invented, explored, and named as if greater complexity meant greater evolution.
Even the yoga space has changed. These days, a shala isn't complete without the right decor, soft lighting, and a playlist to set the mood.
Somewhere in the mix, the ancient thread began to wind down; of course, there are still lineages, teachers, and practitioners who hold the depth of the practice with care and humility. But they're quieter, less visible and less algorithm-friendly.
Every tradition evolves. However, we've certainly lost something when the outer form takes over the inner path. Yoga was never meant to be entertainment. So, where does that leave us? It could be as simple as returning to the breath and sitting with the silence, on our own. Letting yoga be what it has always been: a path to remember who and what we truly are.
Read all my articles on https://substack.com/
