Beyond the Surface of Teaching Yoga
In a world that rewards visibility, achievement, and doing more, it's common—even among yoga teachers to unknowingly seek validation through their roles. This often manifests as a desire for appreciation, larger class sizes, recognition, or even a sense of self-worth. But true teaching doesn’t arise from performance or praise. It comes from embodied presence. From self-awareness, listening, and surrender.
Teaching with intention invites us to shift our focus from how we are perceived to how we are showing up. It’s about listening, aligning with love, and trusting that our embodied presence is more than enough.
Whether you’re guiding longtime practitioners or holding space for just two students in a quiet studio, these subtle shifts have the potency to transform you and your teachings.
Teaching as Sacred Surrender
When we teach with intention, we soften the grip on how we think things should go. We let go of needing a full class, flawless flows, or perfectly aligned cues. Instead, we become receptive to what is, to the students who’ve shown up, to the energy in the space, and the unexpected developments that we could never have scripted.
This perspective calls us to return to the very essence of yoga: Less mastery. Greater humility.
Teaching becomes an offering, rather than something we might analyze or receive without awareness.
A Moment that Changed My Experience
In my early years, I spent hours carefully preparing classes, writing sequences, crafting playlists, and rehearsing certain words. I wanted to appear knowledgeable and inspiring.
One morning, I showed up to teach, and only a few students came. I felt a pang of embarrassment. But I set aside the script and guided them with quiet presence. After class, a student lingered. Her eyes were soft. “That’s the first time in weeks I’ve felt peace in my body,” she said softly.
That moment changed me. It revealed what truly matters: not the numbers or the choreography, but the energy I offer. It marked the beginning of teaching with and from the heart.
Another Lesson: Holding Space, Even When Empty
I once subbed a class where no one showed up. I remember sitting on the mat, lights low, feeling a sense of failure. But instead of rushing out, I stayed. I practiced in silence. I offered the practice to anyone who might have needed that class.
That experience helped me embrace that teaching isn’t only about who is in the room, it’s about who we are becoming (and being) in the moments we feel unseen.
These moments shape us just as much as full rooms and glowing reviews. They remind us that our presence is the practice.
Simple Ways to Teach from the Heart and Hold Space
Here are a few gentle practices to bring intention into your classes:
Set a quiet inner offering before class:
“May each student feel seen and safe.”
“I release the outcome. Let this be a space of healing.”Create sacred pauses: After cueing a posture, take a beat of silence. Let students and feel into the silence.
Tune into the room’s energy, learn to listen beyond the obvious: Maybe your flow needs more stillness today. Maybe more joy. Trust your sensing body more than what you have carefully planned.
Speak with presence: Let your tone reflect steadiness. Try not to rush the words. Speak from the heart.
Teach less, transmit/embody more: Real transmission isn’t in the alignment cues, it’s in your energy… your calm… your presence.
These aren’t techniques to master; they’re invitations to soften into.
Intention Creates Trust
When we stop trying to “get” something from teaching, and instead focus on what we’re here to give, the entire room feels it.
Students don’t remember the fumbles or advanced demos. But they do remember how we made them feel:
The warmth of eye contact.
The safety in your groundedness.
The way you silently communicated, “I’m really grateful you are here.”
Even if the class feels messy or imperfect, your willingness to remain steady creates a sanctuary of trust.
Self-Nurturance Supports Intention
It’s difficult to teach with intention when you’re depleted. Many teachers quietly push through exhaustion, over-giving, and burnout. This is why self-nurturance matters, not as indulgence, but as essential groundwork for showing up fully!
If this resonates, I invite you to explore my blog Self-Nurturance for Yoga Teachers. It offers gentle ways to refill your own cup, so you can teach from a nourished heart, rather than a dry well.
Teaching as an Offering
Let your teaching become a practice of surrender, an offering. A practice of holding a loving space. Remember presence can be extremely powerful without any spoken words, there is a sweet nectar within silence.
It’s not about the posture or playlist. It’s about your willingness to mindfully listen and simply be. To return again and again to presence. To allow yourself to be a channel of something wiser, kinder, and more spacious than your desires, wishes and essentially the ego.
The teachings of yoga are in the breath, in humility, in transparency and in Truth (with a capital T).
A Gentle Invitation
Before your next class, ask yourself:
What first drew me to yoga?
What have I received from this sacred practice?
And why do I feel called to share it now?
Let that inquiry guide you back to your intention. And from that place, may your teachings become a portal for you and your students to touch upon what’s lasting and true— wholeness, love, Grace, Oneness, Consciousness.
Contemplative Question
What presence will you bring to your next class to help you and your students feel, seen, supported, and graciously held?
