top of page

Decolonizing Yoga Practice

Meghana Dwaraka

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

I started this article by googling the word “Yoga”, and all the links on the first few pages were Western authors’ perceptions of yoga: “10 poses for a complete yoga workout” or “5 postures to improve your flexibility”. Granted, it might have something to do with my living in Chicago, but for me, it is representative of a phenomenon that has been fascinating to experience as a yoga teacher- the synonymy of Yoga, with exercise in the West. 


A 2016 study found that the top five reasons for starting yoga in the US are: “flexibility (61 percent); stress relief (56 percent); general fitness (49 percent); improve overall health (49 percent) and physical fitness (44 percent)” (Source: Yoga Alliance). When I meet people in US and as soon as they learn that I am a yoga teacher, one of the initial questions I always get asked is, “What kind of flow do you teach?”. 


I try to explain that physical exercise is a symptomatic benefit of yoga and that yoga is beyond the body. It is a codified process to engage your senses, body, mind, and energy to know your truest, immutable self, unperturbed by material joys and sorrows. This process percolates all aspects of life, including how you interact with yourself and with others. Usually, the response is a skeptical curiosity (which is a good thing– no one should blindly trust without experimenting for themselves). Occasionally, though, I hear, “What if I am not interested in the spiritual or philosophical aspects of yoga?”. I want to respond, “Then you are interested in exercise, not yoga”, but I choose to stay quiet and simply smile. 


A spiritual practice being stripped of its cultural roots and dressed in a Western narrative is not unique to Yoga. Capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art with elements of dance, music, and acrobatics, was meant to be training to prepare for life. The Capoeira circle “functions as an affirmation of mutual respect between communities, groups, and individuals and promotes social integration and the memory of resistance to historical oppression” (source: UNESCO). However, today, it is ubiquitously practiced as a fitness workout in the West. Bellydancing, indigenous dreamcatchers, Buddhist symbols and practices, and Dia de los Muertos (Mexican Day of the Dead) are all examples of spiritual practices that have met the same fate when transmuted outside their cultural context. 


Why is this a bad thing, one might ask? After all, traditions must evolve with time and the popularization of yoga, even if it is only the fitness narrative, still has positive effects on health and well-being. 


The issue here does not lie in the aspects of an ancient discipline that gets adopted, but rather in the aspects that do not. In an era of unprecedented intercultural interaction, there is a subtle yet powerful force at play in society- assimilation pressure. This pressure arises when minority groups consciously or unconsciously conform to the cultural norms of dominant cultures due to societal expectations, media depictions, or commercial incentives. When assimilation pressure acts on a tradition like yoga, it encourages people to focus on its more marketable elements—like the physical poses (asanas)—while disregarding its original intent of self-inquiry. This selective adoption of minority norms and practices leads to the diffusion and colonization of minority cultures— perspectives from spiritual disciplines that are not intuitive to the Western majority risk being lost forever, being dismissed, or being ridiculed


The recognition of our own colonized mindsets is slowly dawning across pockets of our collective consciousness. For instance, given the heightened urgency around climate action, the sheer significance of Indigenous knowledge and practices in promoting sustainability is being acknowledged by environmental organizations and efforts are being made to not just protect them, but to also understand the worldviews that shape these practices. A recent policy brief from the International Institute for Sustainable Development states,


“Indigenous Peoples have criticized the predominant Western understanding of climate change, which they see as a result of the same mindset that promoted the exploitation of people and resources during colonization (Gram-Hanssen, Schafenacker & Bentz, 2021). Their historic experience and holistic perspective of nature-human relationships makes them key agents in developing climate solutions.” [Source: IISD]


Climate action benefits from a clear sense of urgency, where the stakes are high and the solutions require immediate, widespread participation— people can unite around measurable goals and tangible outcomes, driving collective momentum. In contrast, yoga's focus is deeply personal and introspective—it's about discovering one's own truth, asking profound existential questions like "Who am I?" and exploring that answer at one's own pace. This journey requires patience, discipline, and a willingness to engage with concepts that may not yield immediate, visible results. Moreover, the various paths of yoga—Bhakti (devotion), Jnana (rational inquiry), Karma (service), and Raja (raising energy)—highlight that there is no single route to self-realization. Each person must find the method that resonates with their unique nature, which is why traditional yoga emphasizes individual progress over uniformity. This diversity in approach and the deeply personal nature of yoga makes it difficult to generate the same level of societal urgency or collective action that we see in response to global challenges like climate change. While this individualized exploration is essential for authentic spiritual growth, it does not easily align with a modern society that often prioritizes quick fixes, measurable achievements, and uniform solutions. As a result, the deeper dimensions of yoga struggle to gain traction in a world that favors speed and instant gratification over introspection and self-discovery, and convenience over contemplation. 


The challenge of decolonizing yoga and similar practices in such a context lies in honoring their origins and respecting the worldviews they were born from, rather than merely adopting the aspects that are convenient or familiar. We tend to accept information consistent with our existing beliefs and delivered by messengers we already trust. By intentionally increasing our tolerance for discomfort and cultivating a genuine curiosity for ideas that differ from our own, we open ourselves to true cultural exchange instead of perpetuating cultural appropriation. Building this openness to unfamiliar ideas requires setting intentional 'discomfort goals'—actively seeking experiences that challenge our comfort zones. So, as you reflect on your relationship with yoga or any other tradition, ask yourself: when was the last time you willingly invited discomfort into your life, not as an obstacle but as a doorway to deeper understanding?

Comments


bottom of page