Why Boring Yoga Sequences Are Awesome

Do you feel the pressure to create a new sequence for every class?

When you tromp into your eighth class of the week and teach the same sequence that you did yesterday (heaven forfend!), do you hear any of these voices in your head?

“My students are getting bored.”

“I need to keep them interested.”

“If I don’t create something new, they’ll think I phoned it in.”

“They’ll stop coming to my class.”

In a saturated marketplace, yoga teachers may feel the pressure to innovate continually. We feel like we have to be different, interesting, compelling…and popular. Our classes need to be full. Our students need to leave happy. And sometimes it seems pretty popular to crank up the dance tunes and lead students in a yoga rave.

Now, let me throw a a healthy caveat in here: a healthy inspiration to innovate and share authentically is wonderful. If you love generating wild flows with complex transitions, then go for it with my ample blessings.

But just in case you’re someone who feels the crushing burden of being continual novel weighing upon you, I want to let you you in on a well-kept secret:

Your sequence doesn’t have to be interesting; YOGA is interesting. You don’t have to hold the students’ attention; their PRACTICE will hold their attention. You don’t have to be entertaining; being PRESENT is all-consuming.

In fact, an excess of novelty can get in the way of the bald ass starkness of simply being present. A wildly entertaining playlist and sequence can inadvertently create an environment of distraction rather than a space for mindfulness.

Some of my favorite class sequences have been utterly simple. For several years, I showed up on my mat and practiced the exact same sequence day after day (I was an ashtangi). Was I bored? Never. Every practice was different. Some days I felt like an elephant; some days I felt like a swan. Because I practiced the same poses everyday, I could more clearly see how the variation in my daily experience was completely subjective.

A simple practice can be confrontational. In a world that is cluttered with tasks, chimes, alerts, and to-do lists, clearing the slate and breathing into the present moment can take surprising courage and vulnerability. Holding space for students to simply be with themselves – as they are, with no distractions – can be scary. We can’t hide behind the sequence or the music. It’s just them, and it’s just us. And here we all are. These spaces – free from errands, tasks, and distractions – is rare and nourishing. We feel the life beyond the clutter. The “I” beyond the Iphone.

If wild and varied sequences don’t feel authentic to you, I encourage you to throw them out. And here is a very practical challenge: I dare you to teach the exact same sequence for a month. Not only will you challenge those nasty little fear gremlins in your head, but you’ll be able to focus on other aspects of your teaching (student connection, hands on assists, verbal assists, rhythm, class tone, theming, etc.) that you may not have time for when you’re constantly working a new sequence. And more importantly, you may offer your students a surprising new experience of their own practice.

Want more? Check out my continuing education courses in Yoga Sequencing and Teaching here.