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Recently, I was at a friend’s house when I thought about confessing my feelings. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and didn’t know how to break the news. But after dinner, I took a deep breath, shuffled over to her, and bowed her head low.
“You know what,” I said. “I just thought about it.” She turned to me with a raised eyebrow, a dish towel in her hand.
“and?”
“Well, I decided things weren’t going well,” I admitted. “I’m not happy. I don’t think this is for me.”
I was talking about the yoga class we’d been attending together for most of the year. She is a dear friend and one of many acquaintances in my home state of Colorado who swear that yoga has changed their lives, and I am equally convinced that yoga will change my life. When I would confide in her about her anxiety, depression, tightness in her lower back, her back pain, and other ailments, her answer was always the same. She said, “You should try yoga.”
For years, I just rolled my eyes. I braced myself for the lecture, thinking, “Here I am again!” and felt frustrated that no one would listen to what I had to say.
“Just because yoga worked for you doesn’t mean it will work for me,” I told her. But in the end, she wore me out during a particularly stressful month at her job. I was always anxious and struggled to deal with it. “Maybe she’s right,” I thought in a moment of weakness. “Maybe this yoga is worth trying.”
Fine, I told her. She thinks she’ll give it a try. And I did. But as the years went by, yoga’s often-touted benefits remained elusive, including an increased sense of calm and equanimity, improved sleep quality, reduced stress, and reduced injury. Trust me, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
A quick series of all the yoga studios that failed me
When I finally agreed to try yoga, my friend gave me a promo code for a week of free classes at her studio. At the time, I was an unemployed freelance writer living in the basement of a run-down house with a guy I met from college and three other guys I met on Craigslist. I didn’t have much money, so I didn’t care about free stuff. So I decided to make the most of this sudden windfall and attend yoga classes for seven days straight.
Each class was different. The first one consisted of moving dumbbells and doing yoga poses to the beat of high-powered pop music. In another lesson, the instructor played aggressive hip-hop music and had us jumping up and down while shouting, “Work that booty!” To the unfortunate participants. In class on Wednesday, the teacher played the harmonium and invited us all to join in on a whimpering, half-hearted chorus of “This Little Light of Mine.” I don’t remember much about Thursday, but there was a shirtless guy in the back row who seemed to be doing a perfect handstand that drove the whole class crazy. Every time he looked in the mirror, I could see his sweaty, upside-down six-pack in my peripheral vision. By the end of the first cycle of sun salutations, I hated him. By the end of the second one, I was fantasizing about “accidentally” knocking him over during my next three-legged downward dog.
The last class of the week was really fun. It was more traditional Vinyasa, flowing and meditative. The teacher still used too much Sanskrit for my liking, which always felt pretentious and appropriative to me, but the movement itself was… fine. However, by then it was already too late. Just walking into the studio made me feel itchy and irritated. I couldn’t wait for the week to be over.
After that, I decided I wanted to focus more on training, so I tried a yoga class at a climbing gym. Instead, the instructor waxed poetic about the phases of the moon and horoscopes, and burned enough incense to send an asthmatic straight to the emergency room. I tried hot yoga and ended up feeling frustrated and dehydrated. We tried rooftop yoga and the best part was the mimosas served afterwards. And finally, I tried faithfully to attend that yoga class with a friend twice a week for months. But it never took hold.
People for whom yoga is not helpful
I have several friends who seem to have benefited greatly from yoga. Many of them are people who don’t come naturally to exercise, or whose bodies are recovering from some kind of physical or mental trauma. For them, the slow, gentle style of yoga is a great way to find movement without the intimidating intensity of cardio or weightlifting. That’s definitely something to appreciate.
However, my relationship with exercise is different. I have high energy and high anxiety, so I need to move a lot to stay sane. That’s why I’m happiest when I spend my free time working out at the gym or running miles on local trails. I know there are some intense yoga classes that focus on strength, but an hour of bodyweight training won’t give you the same high of a long session in the weight room.
Sure, if you had infinite time, it would be great to spend an hour burning off energy under the barbell, then two hours stretching and breathing in a yoga class. But like most working people, I have to prioritize. And if I prioritize yoga, that means sacrificing the high-intensity workouts that make me feel strong, confident, and calm.
If you’re the type of person who needs a lot of fast-paced, heavy-weight exercise to stay happy, yoga isn’t for you. Some of us think yoga is good to have, but it’s not necessary. I think that’s a luxury. An increasingly expensive and often exclusive luxury item.
My other complaint about yoga is that yoga practitioners often act as proselytizers and act as if yoga is the only meditative exercise. If you talk to experienced rock climbers, powerlifters, dancers, and runners, you’ll find that all of these sports rely heavily on breathing to generate focus, rhythm, and power. Yoga doesn’t have a monopoly on this.
Still, evangelism continues. When you talk to serious practitioners about how yoga makes you anxious or frustrated, the answer is usually that yoga is better. Imagine if people responded to other aversions with similar prescriptions. Don’t like broccoli? Until then, eat one animal every day. Don’t have a math brain? Become an engineer. Have you always hated running? Please run more. The last time I told an avid yogi to run more, she raised her eyebrows at me and made a disgusted sound. “Running isn’t for me,” she said, ending the conversation.
I’ve seen yoga practitioners turn their noses up at various sports and disparage them as “too hard” or “too intense.” While I agree that movement should be as enjoyable and relaxing as possible, I disagree with the idea that yoga is the only way to achieve that. I’ve certainly witnessed competitive, hard-working yoga (see: sweaty, shirtless men doing handstands in beginner classes). And at the other end of the spectrum, I’ve seen CrossFit enthusiasts swinging their tires around with egoless, enlightened ease.
As with anything, it’s not what you do that matters, but how you do it. When you love something and begin to practice it with intuition, intention, and openness, you can feel a meditative flow. It doesn’t matter if it’s a Warrior 2 on a mountaintop or his 300-pound deadlift in a dirty garage. There are thousands of ways to use movement to calm your mind. There are thousands of ways to stretch your muscles and your limits. Yoga is one way. But that’s not the only way.
Things I wish my yoga experience had been different
One yoga instructor I know clearly admits that yoga is just one of many ways to meditate while moving. My friend, my girlfriend, teaches yoga classes at a local rec center that I occasionally attend, mainly to support her. It costs just $9 to participate, and most of the participants are over the age of 65.
We try new things and laugh a lot. Classes are simple, challenging, and fun. They don’t pretend to be anything other than who they are. I like friendship, but not yoga. However, sometimes I wonder if I would have felt differently if I had met her class earlier.
Over 10 years ago, when I started going to therapy, a friend’s mom sat me down and gave me some advice. “Cory,” she said. “Finding a good therapist is like finding a bra. You need to find the style you like, and it needs to fit well and feel supportive.”
I wish I had received that kind of guidance regarding yoga. Too many instructors think their approach is the best, or think of themselves as spiritual leaders or all-knowing gurus. But in reality, they’re just people. And like all people, they are very changeable and very fallible. Just because they’re speaking in front of the room doesn’t mean they’re right or that their method reflects yoga as a whole. I wish I knew sooner. I wish I had been warned to be more intentional about searching around for practices and studios that would work for me.
In fact, I think I got even more value out of my yoga experience. It’s a strong knowledge of who you are and what moves you need to make to be happy. I know it’s not yoga (at least technically). And I’m at peace with that. I can only hope that over time, my yoga friends will do the same.
Related: I took my first yoga class four years ago. I won’t be back.
About contributors
Corey Buhay is a freelance writer and editor based in Boulder, Colorado.You can read her work below backpacker, mountain climbingand outsideThere are publications such as
