Why I Still Teach in a Studio (When Everyone's Gone Digital)
Look, I get it. Online yoga is convenient. You can do it in your pants, your dog can join in, and you don't have to find parking. During lockdown, we all became very familiar with practising yoga in our living rooms, trying not to kick the coffee table during warrior pose.
But here's why I still teach in a studio, and why people still drag themselves out on cold Tuesday evenings to practice with me in person.
You Can't Adjust a Screen
Yesterday, a student was straining her neck in cobra pose - something I spotted immediately and fixed with a gentle adjustment. Online? She'd have continued straining, potentially hurting herself, with no idea anything was wrong.
I can see when you're holding your breath (you probably are right now). I can spot when you're compensating for an old injury you haven't mentioned. I can tell the difference between "good challenging" and "about to hurt yourself challenging." Your laptop can't do any of that.
Sometimes You Need to Be Seen
Not in an Instagram way. In a "someone actually notices you're struggling today and adapts the class accordingly" way.
When you walk through my door, I can tell if you've had a shit day, if your back's playing up, or if you're feeling strong and need more challenge. I adjust what I'm teaching based on who's actually in the room, not some pre-planned sequence designed for an imaginary average person.
The Magic of Shared Struggle
There's something that happens when ten people are all wobbling through tree pose together. When the person next to you falls out of it and laughs, you realise it's not just you who finds this stuff difficult.
Online, you're alone with your struggles. In the studio, we're all human together. That matters more than you'd think.
Your House Is Full of Distractions
Be honest - how many times have you checked your phone during an online class? Answered the doorbell? Gotten distracted by the washing that needs doing?
The studio is a dedicated space where the only thing that matters for 90 minutes is your practice. No notifications, no laundry, no "I'll just quickly..." It's surprisingly radical to be completely present somewhere these days.
The Energy Is Real
I know "energy" sounds woo-woo, but there's something that happens when people breathe together in the same space. Call it collective focus, call it group dynamics, call it whatever makes you comfortable - but it's different from practicing alone in your spare room.
The concentration in the room during meditation is palpable. The collective sigh during final relaxation. The shared relief when I say "and release." You can't download that.
Safety Isn't Just About Not Falling Over
Yes, I'll stop you from doing something that might injure you. But it's more than that. The studio is a safe space to be vulnerable, to try things that might make you look silly, to lie down and rest when that's what you need.
At home, you might push through when you should rest, or give up when you need encouragement. In the studio, I'm watching out for you.
The Ritual of Showing Up
Getting to class is half the practice. It's the decision to prioritise yourself for 90 minutes. It's the transition from your daily life into yoga space - even if that's just the walk down my garden path.
When you practice at home, yoga becomes another thing on your to-do list, squeezed between emails. When you come to the studio, it becomes something more intentional.
But I'm Not Anti-Online
Online yoga has its place. If you're ill, travelling, or genuinely can't get to a studio, it's brilliant that you can still practice. I'd rather you did online yoga than no yoga.
But if you have the choice? If there's a good teacher near you with a real studio? Try it. Give yourself the gift of being taught in person, adjusted when needed, and held in a space with others who are also trying to feel more human.
The Bottom Line
After 13 years of teaching and decades of practice, learning from teachers around the world, I can tell you this: the deepest learning happens in person. The biggest breakthroughs. The moments when everything clicks.
Yes, it's less convenient than rolling out your mat in your bedroom. Yes, you have to deal with parking and weather and other humans.
But that's rather the point. Yoga isn't about convenience. It's about showing up, even when it's inconvenient. Especially then.
The Yoga Den is open for in-person classes throughout the week. Small groups, real teaching, actual humans. Book a class and remember what it's like to practice with others.