There are so many different styles of yoga these days that whenever someone tells me they’ve practised before, my first question is: what style?

A quick internet search will tell me there are at least ten recognised styles—alongside countless variations, benefit-specific approaches, and signature sequences derived from them. From dynamic, creative flows to trauma-informed practices and deeply restful, sleep-inducing meditations, the spectrum is vast.

Given this diversity, it’s surprising that yoga is still so often reduced to flexibility, mobility, and relaxation—especially by those who haven’t experienced its breadth.

Perhaps this comes down to a limited understanding of what yoga is, what it has become in modern times, and what it comes to mean to those who practise it over years.

It may also reflect the fact that yoga’s roots lie in ancient philosophical and spiritual traditions that precede our modern ways of living—and have reached us through layers of translation, interpretation, and academic study.

During my PhD, I intially practiced yoga every Wednesday evening as a midweek recovery point. I was looking for a physical practice to soften the edges of a fairly strict routine: weightlifting, volleyball training, running and studying!

And yet, after more than ten years of teaching various styles (more on those below), and reading extensively on the subject, I still find myself both deeply intrigued about ‘what yoga is’—and oddly unable to pin it down.

So recently, I began gathering and distilling different perspectives on yoga—from the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali to T. K. V. Desikachar (author of The Heart of Yoga, one of the most widely assigned texts in teacher trainings), as well as teachers I’ve studied with or been influenced by: Ana Forrest, Judith Lasater, and Donna Farhi, among others.

Here is how some of them define the practice of yoga, paraphrased and summarised. (a full list of all the books where these definitions were condensed from is to be found at the end of this issue):

Here are some of their definitions, paraphrased and distilled (a full reading list is included at the end of this issue):

What emerges is not a single definition, but a constellation.

Yoga reveals itself as complex, layered, and at times elusive—simultaneously personal and universal; physical and subtle; grounded and expansive. It is as much a discipline (abhyāsa) as it is a process of letting go (vairāgya), as described in classical yoga philosophy.

And if I’m honest, placing so much expectation on one practice to transform us through dedication and discipline—can feel, at times, a little problematic. Even if I’ve personally received a great deal from it.

That’s why I sometimes joke with my students in class, after setting a particularly profound intention, that at the end of the day: we’re just doing a bit of yoga.

Softening the expectations around it seems to me spacious and responsible. After all, not everyone that attends a yoga class is looking for a spiritual experience.

And yet—yoga is spiritual.

Unlike other forms of exercise, yoga —even in its most physical expressions— doesn’t demand belief, but invites inquiry.

The philosophical roots of yoga—whether in the Yoga Sutras, the Bhagavad Gītā, or later texts—consistently point towards an inner orientation: a movement from distraction to attention, from fragmentation to coherence, from identification with thought to a deeper witnessing awareness (draṣṭā).

So perhaps this is something we don’t need to dilute or avoid: yoga is, inherently, a spiritual practice—even when its entry point is strength, flexibility, or rest. Even when modern forms attempt to sculpt it into something more palatable, more efficient, or more marketable.

So what, if yoga is spiritual?

To say something is spiritual doesn’t have to make it abstract or inaccessible. At its simplest, it speaks to what gives life a sense of meaning, connection, and vitality.

Spirit shares its root with breath—prāṇa in yogic terms—the animating force that moves through us. Spirit is ultimately is about energy—the sense of aliveness we feel when we experience things that uplift us and give us joy, as well as learning to recognise what depletes us, what sustains us, and what brings us back into relationship with it.

So it seems perhaps that the place to start to define yoga is contrary to the way I first came to it—away from the purely physical—and squarely centred on the spiritual.

But how highly unpalatable to a society that leans towards speed, output, optimisation. A world increasingly shaped by technology, performance, and constant stimulation.

And yet, it may be exactly what is needed.

So—what is yoga, really?

Is it found in the commonalities between styles? In the benefits often listed? In the personal experiences that accumulate over time?

Maybe it resists all of these.

I think the answer lies at the core of its intangible nature, and so it probably challenges finite and highly logical nature of definitions. Like the concept of puruṣa (pure awareness) in classical philosophy, doesn’t sit neatly within definition. It isn’t something to be fully grasped by the thinking mind.

Similar to spirit, it is beyond the body and the mind, even if squarely embodied in them.

It is something to be experienced.

Lived.

Not just on the mat, but in how we relate—to ourselves, to others, and to the world around us.

Yoga is beyond the mat in the way that it affects more than the way we move and think - it affects the way we relate.

And in this dynamic dance, yoga is also life.

Tuesdays, 7pm, Barnoldswick (KL Health Hub)

A small-group class blending yoga, functional movement and mobility to help you move well, build strength with integrity, and support recovery from the demands of modern life.

These sessions focus on joint health, steady strength, and nervous system regulation — so you leave feeling clearer, more connected, and capable in your body.

Accessible, progressive, personal and thoughtfully paced. *You don’t need to be a gym member to join.

Tuesdays online 5:15pm and Thursdays 6:30pm, Clitheroe

An intentional and inwardly focused practice rooted in breath, core strength and deep presence. Forrest Yoga invites you to build physical confidence while staying connected to feeling — developing resilience without disconnecting from yourself.

Expect intelligent sequencing, long dynamic holds, and space to work honestly with what arises.

Wednesdays 7:15pm once a month in Barrowford; Sundays twice a month in Clitheroe

A deeply nourishing online practice designed for the darker months. Slow, supported postures, longer holds, and conscious breathing help calm the nervous system and replenish energy.

This is a space to soften, reset, and allow winter to do its quiet work within you.

I am offering one more class online in this format on Friday 27th March, 7pm. After this date, I will explore how to integrate this deeply nourishing rest practice when the evenings are lighter and so many of us prefer to spend more time outdoors. Watch this space.

I also teach this class twice a month in Clitheroe.

17 May, 10am Phoebe’s Skipton

The last Yoga & Brunch was absolutely phenomenal. Eight women shared movement, space, and connection in a circle. We honoured the women we are becoming and the women who have come before us.

After practice, we shared nourishing food and unhurried conversation — creating space for connection, warmth, and honest exchange.

They might become your favourite too

You can find all of these books in my affiliate Bookshop.org account.

with grace and gratitude,

Supporting individuals and businesses towards authentic freedom and wellbeing