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A wise man once said, “There’s no right answer to a wrong question.” I remember this whenever someone asks what style of yoga I teach. So I reply, hesitantly, that while style is defined as a fixed form or manner, yoga is an infinitely adaptable science of self-care. At this point, the questioner, expecting a one-word answer, glazes and fidgets impatiently. At the risk of creating a sea of glazed fidgety readers, I’ll continue.
Yoga is one of six formal philosophies (darsanas) distilled from India’s ancient Vedas. This complete, holistic system is outlined in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, 195 Sanskrit aphorisms which have been chanted and explored by students and teachers for 2500 years. Elegant, complex, and precise, Patanjali’s Sutras explore strategies for increasing joy and reducing the discomfort that can be a part of daily living.
Nowhere in this profound text is there mention of fixed forms or styles. Though yoga’s truths are universal and its tools useful for reducing suffering, the sutras state that yoga is only effective when appropriately adapted to the individual. Specifically, Sutra III: 6 uses the word ‘viniyoga’ or ‘special application’, to describe the need for situational modification.
This point is clear in asana, a tool for refining attention and revitalizing the spine. Each posture in yoga fulfills a certain function and creates a specific experience. To do this, however, the form of the pose must be tailored to the individual.
For example, the function/experience of utanasana, a symmetrical forward bend, is a deep release, a lengthening of the lumbar spine. The classical form is feet together, legs perfectly straight. However, to fully achieve the goals of this pose, certain practitioners would need to stand feet slightly apart or knees slightly bent, or both. For these practitioners, standing with the feet too close together creates instability and wobbling. Furthermore, with legs perfectly straight, those with tighter legs would feel the pose more in the legs, and miss the experience in the spine and back. Individual modifications are essential from person to person, and for the same person under different conditions.
The need for ongoing adaptation is even more crucial with yoga’s subtler tools such as pranayama and meditation. Long-term practice of generic breath work or the wrong object of meditation could have no effect, or even increase mental agitation and emotional turmoil. Personally, I can attest to inappropriate practices deepening my own perfectionism, self-criticism, and black and white thinking.
The concept of ‘styles’ is a recent invention. According to T. Krishnamacharya, the legendary South Indian Yogi, there are four classical focuses (styles) in yoga: Developmental (Siksana), Maintenance (Raksana), Therapeutic (Cikitsa), and Transcendental (Adhyatmika).
Siksana is developmental, a preparation for life ahead. Primarily taught to healthy children and young adults, this focus emphasizes vigorous postures to build strong bodies and increase stamina. To improve mental focus, this arduous approach uses lengthy, pre-set sequences and asana in its classical form. Siksana is limited in scope, depth and subtlety, but appropriate for the body and mind of a young person.
Raksana, the approach used for healthy adults, focuses on prevention and maintenance. Here we sequence and adapt the postures for each student’s age, condition, occupation, goals, strengths and weaknesses. This prescriptive practice integrates the asana with pranayama, sound, mantra, gesture, visualization, Sutra study, meditation, prayer and ritual. This shorter, richer practice utilizes the full eight limbs, Patanjali’s Ashtanga Yoga to aid in the fulfilling of adult responsibilities.
Cikitsa, or Yoga Therapy is for healing the sick. Often based on a multidimensional model such as the 5 Mayas or 7 Chakras, this approach uses the interconnections between the body, breath, mind, personality, and emotions to create wellness. Cikitsa uses highly modified postures along with pranayama, visualization, sound, and prayer. Techniques commonly perceived as Ayurveda, such as diet, herbs, and massage, are employed to treat specific health problems and build confidence (sraddha) and vitality (prana).
Adhyatmika is for those wishing to experience the highest truth or meaning of life. Taught primarily to elders, renunciates, and others free from normal daily responsibilities, this approach is deeply contemplative and employs reflection, meditation, prayer and ritual to achieve inner peace and self-realization.
Although these traditional focuses are the closest classical equivalent to styles, they are fundamentally different from the fixed forms practiced by modern people. First, these approaches were based on the needs of each student. Practices were individually designed and respected the uniqueness of each person. Unlike contemporary styles, which require every student to conform to specific parameters such as heated rooms or pre-set sequences to achieve the desired results.
Second, these focuses were defined by their function/experience, not standardized methods or appearances. Whether the aim was to develop strength, heal an illness, or find God, these approaches were adapted to allow each practitioner to achieve their goals.
To refine modern yoga’s perception of style seems a formidable task. A fixed style is equivalent to a brand name, a huge advantage in the marketplace. Plus, black and white rules (do only these postures, only this way) are easier to present in a six-week teacher-training course than yoga’s complex view of the human system, its vast ocean of tools and subtle strategies for individualization.
So pervasive is the notion of styles, that, ‘viniyoga’, the word Patanjali used to describe appropriate application, is now perceived as yet another style of yoga. Nonetheless, the shift is inevitable. Practitioners worldwide are finding that conforming to a particular style may provide short-term relief, but often leads to physical degradation, dogmatic thinking, and emotional rigidity.
To experience yoga afresh, one might first establish a relationship with a style-free teacher and learn the full range of Yoga’s principles and applications. I met such a teacher, Kausthub Desikachar, the grandson of the T. Krishnamacharya, while studying at the Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram in South India. Studying with Kausthub challenges me to empty my cup of stylized preconceptions regularly. Untouched by the notion of styles, his creative applications of Yoga’s countless tools are surprising, engaging and highly effective.
Admittedly, I get frustrated when Kausthub refuses to answer questions in style-based, yes or no terms. His usual reply is a thoughtful, enigmatic, ‘Well, it depends...’. Unmistakable and undeniable, however, is the increased joy, comfort, strength and stability I experience and share in my teaching, my relationships, and my life. Is cultivating a relationship with a teacher and embracing a style-free practice appropriate, desirable, or even possible for everyone? I would say, yes, absolutely. But I know what my teacher, Kausthub would say.... “Well, it depends...”
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