No, Yoga Isn’t Magic (Pilates Isn’t Either)
Last week I spent four days at the Trauma Research Foundation Conference in Boston, rubbing shoulders with psychotherapists, social workers and other clinical professionals with a specialization in trauma. Having been heavily influenced by what I learned in pain reprocessing therapy training and related research like the popular book The Body Keeps the Score, I went into this intellectual experience hoping to expand my mind into a world I knew would feel a bit outside of my comfort zone.
I am not ashamed to admit that many sessions veered into content that was far beyond my understanding. I think there is something healthy about putting ourselves in situations where we are challenged to grasp the knowledge that is required to participate. As young people we did that all the time right? But as adults we tend to stick to what we know. When we expand the boundaries of our minds, that is how we grow.
I find it invigorating to be surrounded by people who have a completely different lens on the world than I do. It was also, admittedly, exhausting; and I felt as if I had gone for a long run when I got home. A lot of the content, especially the clinical case studies, was extremely heavy. Trauma is such a common experience (one presenter said that depending on which diagnostic definition you use you could estimate between 30 and 90 percent of Americans have experienced trauma), but there is nothing normal about it. Having your complete sense of self ripped from you; being unable to step away from a fundamental worldview in which there can be no safety; I think this is both relatable and unthinkable at the same time.
One frustration I have as a restorative movement teacher, is that I find when I enter these “therapeutic” spaces–where the focus is addressing pain or trauma or stress, etc.--that Yoga is consistently over-represented as the movement modality of choice.There seems to be a widespread belief that Yoga is the only form of physical movement that has mental health benefits. Or maybe just the most relevant. Yoga-related interventions were presented in multiple sessions during the conference and yoga was often mentioned in passing when the presenter said, “and other mindfulness activities, such as yoga.”
I find this infuriating. And it’s not because I teach pilates and therefore want equal billing for pilates and yoga. This isn’t some kind of yoga versus pilates thing….which by the way is a false dichotomy if I ever saw one because these modalities aren’t even related to each other except for the fact that one subset of Pilates activities involves a mat.
The idea that we would pick one form of movement as therapeutically superior to another is, in my view, far too narrow and not backed by evidence. It’s not the movements we choose but how that matters. Any kind of movement can be intentional, mindful and oriented towards well-being as the primary goal. I personally find working kettlebells to be therapeutic. I love the rhythm of the swinging and the sense of strength and confidence, as well as the focus that is required. I also enjoy animal flow, dance, Zumba, and swimming. There are many others that have different, but equally valuable, benefits, such as hiking and connecting to nature.
There are chemical processes associated with all kinds of physical activity that have positive health effects. I do not think my brain can tell the difference between movements like, “oh this is downward dog so it gets more dopamine, but I am going to ignore this roll-up.” Additionally, all movement requires breathing. And if we want to make calming breath a primary outcome of any kind of movement, it would only require a shift in focus. Swimming, arguably, requires this kind of breathing most of all since every stroke is designed around breath and the need to keep from drowning in the process.
It is not that I dislike yoga, what I am against is the assumption that yoga (or any one form of movement for that matter) has some kind of magical properties that solve all ills just through its specific physical positions and philosophy. I know that yoga has been around for a very long time and has a rich historical tradition, but I am sorry there just isn’t anything physiologically superior about yoga over other forms of movement.
In my opinion, whatever form of movement makes a person feel the most connected to their bodies and helps them achieve whatever physical goals they have for themselves is the kind of movement that is best for them. I would also suggest that there is a sort of fetishism associated with yoga where people assume that because it falls under “Eastern” traditions it is morally superior, even mystical. And this is a mindset that threatens to deprive us all of the benefits of evidenced-backed and science-based approaches, where we could use empirical research to make movement central to wellness initiatives. Instead, there is a desire by some to lean on the “unknowable magic” of a particular movement form. It feels a bit like colonialism to me.
To make matters worse, folks in the “yoga rules all” camp often question the validity of my own pain journey and outcomes with pilates. Someone at the conference responded to me, after I shared that I started taking pilates to help with back pain, “Really, why not yoga?” <Sigh>. I have to be honest with you, friends, I tried yoga in the early years of my disc herniation and it felt TERRIBLE. I don’t think I am alone in this. So many of us who have some measure of hypermobility in our joints and a tendency to “hang on our ligaments” rather than recruit major muscles for postural endurance have to work extra hard to keep yoga from being a miserable experience. Currently, while I do enjoy a weekly yoga class, I have to be very particular about the teacher and format because the kind of yoga that encourages the holding of poses at the end range of my joints for long periods of time feels positively awful. This is basically a guaranteed pain flare-up for me.
The bottom line is that rituals, music and communal movements have been around throughout human history. To single out one form of movement as being superior to others is not only false, but it also narrows our definitions of what is available as a therapeutic tool, which helps no one. At best, we end up missing out on approaches that could help more people, and at worst, we unwittingly leave people without options if they find that their needs aren’t met by that one “preferred” movement modality. Inclusion means giving people the chance to find their own way in connecting with their bodies and counting all movement forms as equally beneficial and valid, which I believe they actually are.
