Is There Such a Thing as "Bad" Yoga?

Another yoga teacher posed this question in a forum I follow, and it really made me pause (heh—no pun intended!).

If you've known me for a hot minute, then you can probably guess my immediate answer: any form of yoga that compromises your safety for the sake of ego (an instructor's or a practitioner's) or drives you beyond your limits without thoughtful consideration could align with the label "bad yoga".

However, as I've said before, sometimes changing your yoga sequence is good. Maintaining an open mind about the possibilities of your practice, exploring new disciplines and philosophies, allowing yourself to enter different spaces—all these ways and more are vital to incorporating yoga into your life. Think of it a little like traveling: your primary practice is "home", but it's always interesting to venture away from base with a new class now and then.

But indeed, yoga can be "bad" sometimes:

• Music is too loud or inappropriate (ask me about "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi being played during savasana!)

• Incense is smokey and cloying.

• An instructor makes you do partner yoga with people you don't know.

• Sequencing is haphazard or too fast or far more advanced than your current. level.

These are just a few examples of many—so many!—experiences I've had over the years.

Here's an interesting perspective from the teacher's post, though: as long as it's safe, occasionally, even "bad" yoga can be good, because you've allowed yourself to take that dedicated time and know what's important to you, so you still felt generally okay afterward.

They compared it to pizza: even bad pizza is still kinda good!

So the next time you're doing yoga in the park and bugs are crawling across your mat and the uneven ground makes it hard to balance or you're on the hard, slick floor of a gym and your mat keeps sliding or an instructor is telling the class about the fight they had with their partner that day while you're holding Bridge Pose (again—so many!)...

...Breathe. Find your center. Acknowledge your openness. And remember where home is.

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash