“but is it yoga?”

Picture this.

You just taught an amazing class themed around hip mobility. You kept sun salutations to a minimum, breaking them up with smaller, more isolated movements. You brought new life to the usual passive stretches, introducing students to hip CARs, “active” pigeon and 90/90 before integrating that work into standing postures with an emphasis on control through different ranges of motion. The practice finished with some gentle breath work and relaxation.

Students appeared to love it. They worked hard without having to bend themselves into pretzels. The practice helped them find a deep awareness through movement, connecting them to a sense of purposeful presence as they learned more about their individual capacities. Several people thanked you after class and said they look forward to the next time they get to practice with you.

After class, you’re walking past the change room door when you overhear the comment:

“That felt good, but it wasn’t yoga.”

Immediately, your chest gets tight. Your post-class confidence evaporates. You think back on everything you taught, reviewing the class to identify where it all went wrong. In the span of ten seconds, you’ve gone from feeling like a leading-edge instructor to questioning everything you know.

Welcome to the “but is it yoga?” shame spiral.

I know it well. Hell, I lived in this spiral for the better part of two years when students, along with my peers, looked down on what I was doing and implied that my approach to the yoga practice was a sham.

When I got tired of students walking into class expecting a vinyasa-style practice and showing clear disappointment when that’s not what they received, I begged the studio to change the name of my class. I wanted more flexibility to teach something that reflected my personal approach to movement. Plus, I saw how important it was to manage client expectations. As soon as the name of my public classes became “Move Well”, I felt the sense of obligation I’d been carrying for who knows how long instantly give way to relief.

In workshops, I announce to groups that I’m not there to teach them yoga—I’m there to provide them with information and tools to add to their yoga practice and classes, hopefully helping them create a more sustainable approach to movement in general.

And that’s when the questions come up again…

If I teach this stuff in my classes, can I still call it yoga?

What do I tell my students when they ask what this is called?

Is it ok to teach these exercises in a yoga class?

Every time this happens, I’m reminded that this is murky territory.

For every person in my class who thinks what I teach isn’t yoga, someone else in that same class tells me it’s “the most ‘yoga’ experience they’ve ever had.” These different responses reinforce just how difficult it is to define yoga. It’s impossible to silo someone else’s personal experiences, views, and values while also respecting a rich tradition that isn’t mine to define.

During the pandemic, I started to see the “but is it yoga?” question through a different lens. A lens that didn’t care so much about labels. One that was less afraid of disappointing people and more focused on helping people.

Hundreds of yoga and movement teachers bought their work online in 2020, offering classes to those stuck at home. Students were happy to have the opportunity to move and connect with others, even through a screen. The classes were shorter. There was barely any chance for individual attention. People were practicing in their living rooms while their kids watched TV. Overnight, we went from having expectations about what our movement practices are supposed to look and feel like to being grateful for whatever we could get.

Despite having little to no in-person contact, online classes gave us a way to stay united (and really, isn’t that what yoga is about?).

My classes have been called “Move Well” for a few years now, but I no longer feel the need to use a generic title just to keep others from being confused or disappointed.

Yoga Detour™ is a far more accurate reflection of where my passion lies – a practice where the underpinnings are still undoubtedly yoga, while the ways in which we move together are informed by countless alternate paths.

If teaching a class like that seems to be the right next step on your journey, check out Detour Method Online. This course will put you on a totally new trajectory, uncovering new depths in your teaching practice that lie beyond what’s expected or conventional.

Let’s come together to learn, question, discuss, and engage with each other.

Imagine how it will feel to emerge on the other side feeling more prepared than ever to generate positive change.

Yours in discovery,

Cecily

ps. When you join the next cohort of DMO, know that there is a huge crew of alumni waiting to greet you after graduation. They’ve been where you are now and can’t wait to have you join the ranks.

If I could go back in time and high-five myself I would. Detour Method Online is the best decision I’ve ever made. Spending money on self-development is ALWAYS a good idea. I’m learning so much in Cecily’s training, and I’m grateful for the teacher I am becoming.

– Esmeralda

My #1 takeaway is how DMO helped me to be more confident as a teacher. I have way more ideas about how to structure my classes and what exercises to do, and I don’t feel shy to throw some anatomy info here and there. Overall, I feel way more legit, knowledgeable and ready to work with private clients.

– Noé

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No bad movements.

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This is how to Detour in a group class.