12/23/2025
A New Dawn for Yoga Therapy
Today is the first day after the winter solstice—the quiet turning point.
The darkest day has passed, and while the light does not rush back, it does return. Gradually. Reliably. One small shift at a time.
This feels like an appropriate moment to write my first Substack post- ever. if you would like to join me over there. I am happy to have deeper and more meaningful conversations on Substack about Yoga Therapy and Ayurveda. But I am also happy to engage in this thread if we can stay kind and reflective and considerate of one another.
After a long year of listening, discussion, tension, hope, and disagreement, International Association of Yoga Therapists has made a decision regarding the Q program for licensed healthcare professionals. Many people have been waiting. Many people have cared deeply. And many have felt the weight of uncertainty during that waiting.
I want to begin by acknowledging the leadership and volunteers within IAYT who took this process seriously. Regardless of where one stands, it is clear that time, labor, and sincere effort went into grappling with a complex issue that sits at the intersection of integrity, access, healthcare, and the future of the profession. That kind of work is not simple, and it deserves recognition.
I also want to acknowledge the many voices in our community who spoke up—thoughtfully, persistently, and often at personal or professional risk. It takes grit to trust yourself enough to say, something here doesn’t feel aligned, especially when doing so may lead to discomfort and misunderstanding. That willingness to speak from conscience, rather than convenience, is not something I take lightly. It is a sign of care, not opposition.
At the same time, I want to acknowledge licensed healthcare professionals across the spectrum of responses—those who feel disappointed, those who feel relieved, and those who feel genuinely excited about what this decision makes possible. I hope no LHCP ever feels unwelcome or undervalued within the yoga therapy community.
Much has already been said about this decision. There has been pain, frustration, fear, and strong disagreement. I don’t believe this moment calls for re-hashing past harms or reopening wounds that are still tender. There will be time, in other spaces, for reflection, accountability, and repair.
What feels most needed now is something that requires courage- the willingness to open up again to the potential we have together. It is like going to marriage counseling after a separation, when both parties realized they actually want to make it work. It is not so great out there alone…but working together is also very difficult. We have to look for the good, instead of the bad in one another.
It is time for our community to come back together one healed relationship at a time.
It is time to orient toward the future we are trying to build, rather than the fracture points that pulled us apart.
Yoga therapy has always lived in relationship—between tradition and innovation, rigor and compassion, discernment and inclusion. Those tensions are not signs of failure. They are signs of a field that is alive and growing.
On this first day after the darkest day of the year, I’m choosing to trust the slow return of light. Not dramatic change. Not instant clarity. Just the steady work of rebuilding trust, aligning values, and remembering why we came together in the first place. Not because everything is resolved—but because we are still here, still caring, still willing to engage.
First, the 300-hour Therapeutic Yoga Teacher designation just makes sense. It is accessible and inclusive, designed for the broader yoga teaching community rather than a narrow slice of licensed healthcare professionals. It builds thoughtfully on the 200-hour yoga teacher foundation and offers refinement, depth, and clinical sensitivity at a point when many teachers are ready to move beyond introductory training. After the brief beginning that a 200-hour program provides, this level of study creates a meaningful bridge—supporting skill development, discernment, and maturity without overreaching its scope. This is a designation that strengthens the field rather than fragmenting it.
Second, it helps the healthcare community understand our field more clearly. Hospitals, pain clinics, addiction treatment centers, wellness centers, schools, and spiritual health settings need language and structure that make sense within their systems. The 300-hour Therapeutic Yoga Teacher designation helps communicate an important distinction: the difference between a yoga teacher whose primary role might be movement or fitness, and a practitioner who brings a healing presence with foundational specialization in health and healing.
This distinction matters. It becomes the first clear rung on the ladder toward understanding what a yoga therapist is. We have needed this for a very long time.
As a community, we can lean into this stepped framework and explain it more effectively:
First step: yoga teacher
Second step: therapeutic yoga teacher
Third step: yoga therapist
Seen this way, the pathway becomes intuitive rather than confusing. It allows institutions to place practitioners appropriately, ethically, and safely—without collapsing very different levels of training into a single category.
My hope is that, over time, this ladder continues to grow. There is room for additional steps—specialty areas, advanced clinical tracks, and eventually Advanced Yoga Therapists with 1,200 or more hours of training and supervision similar to what NAMA has with their AYT. There is also room for clearly defined trainer designations at each level, ensuring rigor, mentorship, and continuity across generations of practitioners.
This vision is distinct from Yoga Alliance. It sits within a smaller, more focused niche—healing rather than general instruction—and that distinction simply makes sense. Clarity serves everyone: practitioners, institutions, and the people seeking care.
Third, we can hold all of this while staying rooted in what matters most. At the heart of yoga therapy—and yoga itself—is a commitment to the teachings of yoga, lived rather than performed. This means orienting ourselves toward the yamas and niyamas not as abstract principles, but as shared ethical ground: how we relate, how we act, how we repair, and how we remain accountable to one another.
It also means grounding ourselves in the ancient teachings of India with humility and respect. These teachings were never meant to be static or owned by any one group. They were meant to be transmitted carefully, adapted responsibly, and applied in service of reducing suffering. Holding tradition and evolution together is not a contradiction—it is the work.
If we can stay anchored here, then pathways, designations, and professional structures become expressions of integrity rather than departures from it. They become ways of organizing learning and responsibility, not ways of competing for legitimacy.
This feels like the deeper invitation of this moment:
to align growth with ethics, structure with care, and progress with remembrance.
It is about stewardship. We, as a community, need to take that very seriously going forward. It is not secondary to making money in this business. It is our first responsibility.
And yes, this new 300-hour model also offers IAYT a path toward financial sustainability. While this may sound like an uncomfortable conversation to be having right now to some, it is a reality we can no longer avoid. It was in part, what caused this rift in the first place.
For too long, the organization has relied on extraordinary levels of unpaid labor, pushing dedicated volunteers beyond what is reasonable or healthy. I know this personally. I served in that way for six years, and it came at a real cost to my health.
Sustainability matters—not only for the organization, but for the people who hold it. If we want thoughtful leadership, ethical decision-making, and long-term stewardship of the field, we must build structures that allow people to be supported and compensated fairly for their work. Caring for the caregivers applies here too.
My hope is that, as transparency continues to grow and trust slowly rebuilds, some who stepped away from IAYT may consider returning to the organization—if it feels right, and if the new direction ahead resonates with them. It is OK to wait and see. Ruptures take time to repair. It is deep work that will take some energy and focus and kindness from all people and perspectives.
For now, I am watching with interest as the new 300-hour Task Force and leadership team take shape. I remain open to change, attentive to how values are embodied in action, and cautiously optimistic about what might be possible for all of us moving forward.
That, too, feels aligned with a new dawn—not certainty, but willingness and faith that the sun will come up again for us all- together. The work ahead will be incremental. Trust will return slowly, if at all, and only through consistency, transparency, and ethical follow-through. That is not a failure of the field—it is the nature of meaningful repair.
On this first day after the winter solstice, I am choosing to orient toward what can be built rather than what has been broken. The light returns this way—quietly, steadily, without demand.
If we stay rooted in the teachings, speak with integrity, and build structures that honor both people and purpose, there is room for this field to mature without losing its soul.
That is the future I am willing to stay engaged for.
In Peace,
Amy
Picture of the sunrise at my house this morning in Minnesota.
