Does Studying Anatomy Make Yoga Safer?
published by the IAYT (International Association of Yoga Therapists)
in the March 2012 issue of Yoga Therapy Today.
In 2009, I attended the Council of Schools meeting at SYTAR and wrote a perspective for the International Journal of Yoga Therapy about some of the issues surrounding the creation of standards for Yoga Therapy. More recently, I posted a blog piece that was critical of some common misrepresentations in the yoga industry regarding yoga teacher certification, and the New York Times published an article entitled “How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body.”
In all the discussions and comment threads that have ensued, the prevailing sentiment seems to be that one of the reasons there are so many ill-trained teachers and injurious classes is that yoga teachers do not study enough anatomy. The supposition is that what makes a yoga teacher more qualified and the yoga they teach safer is knowledge of the anatomical sciences.
After more than a dozen years specializing in therapeutic yoga practice, working with a broad range of people and conditions, I am confident about the protocols I employ. Consistently favorable outcomes have convinced me that my methods are safe and effective. When I decided to start a training program and offer a foundational 200-hour certification in teaching therapeutic yoga, frankly, studying anatomy was not high on my list of essentials. Although I have studied anatomy to some degree, it has never been my focus and certainly does not form the basis of what is making my classes safe.
This admission may be blasphemous to some, but if science is going to be the rubric then it bears mentioning that, as of yet, there is no research or evidence to support the theory that studying anatomy makes yoga safer. In fact, a strong case can be made that, in many instances, studying anatomy is not helpful in the development of a person’s practice or teaching of yoga.
I realize that such claims, coming from someone who is not rooted in science, might easily be considered less than credible. So I decided to reach out to several prominent teachers of anatomy for yoga instructors and solicit their expert opinions. I sent them the following three questions:
1. Does studying anatomy make Yoga safer? If yes, how? If no, why?
2. Is anatomy (and the teaching thereof) open to interpretation? Explain.
3. Are there instances when studying anatomy is not useful to a yoga practitioner’s or teacher’s development? If so, when?
Leslie Kaminoff, coauthor of Yoga Anatomy (yogaanatomy.net), says: “Anatomy, like any acquired knowledge, is a tool. Tools can be used to help, or to harm. [Studying anatomy is not useful] when you use it to beat yourself or your students up. I generally do not use anatomical terms when I teach. It engages the wrong hemisphere of the brain. I’m trying to give people a three-dimensional experience of their bodies and breath, and they won’t get that if they’re trying to understand and apply anatomy to their own bodies while they practice.“
Amy Mathews, coauthor of Yoga Anatomy (embodiedasana.com), adds: “If studying anatomy helps to illuminate the incredible number of ‘right’ ways to do an action, terrific. Unfortunately, the study of anatomy can also become an imposition of limitations on possibility in a search for what is ‘anatomically correct’.”
In his response to the New York Times article, Kaminoff also points out that yoga forms do not exist as empirical objects, in and of themselves. Yoga asana only exists when a human being attempts to engage them. It is impossible to make generalized statements about the technicalities of an asana form divorced from this essential context.
Not all people respond the same to the study of anatomy. When anatomy piques someone’s interest and inspires inquiry into experience, then the study is useful. However, for the budding teacher who is not academically minded, examining the body through an anatomical lens often leaves that person feeling fearful.
Neil Pearson, clinical assistant professor at the University of British Columbia and the chair of the Pain Science Division of the Canadian Physiotherapy Association (lifeisnow.ca), believes that learning anatomy runs the risk of generating a fear-based approach to yoga asana practice: “When I teach Yoga teachers who are training to be yoga therapists, it is apparent that, for most, their knowledge of anatomy is interspersed with precautions and red flags for ensuring the students are safe in class. This knowledge has not allowed them to teach from their heart, it has created a practice of teaching from fear.”
Furthermore, Pearson explains, the human tendency to try and explain things from a mechanistic perspective, as if we make things more real when we can describe them in terms of something physical, easily turns yoga into asana, and asana into a primarily physical practice. Stressing that anatomy is the key to safety reinforces the view that the physical is most important.
Even if we limit ourselves to the physical, there is a lot about studying anatomy that seems open to interpretation or sensibility. Sure, there is no arguing that a femur bone is anything but a femur bone, but not everyone agrees on the benefits and/or contraindications of headstand and shoulderstand. I have heard credible anatomical justifications to support different views.
Judith Hanson Lasater, author of YogaBody (judithlasater.com) agrees that imposing a medical model on yoga “does not take us anywhere new,” but she asserts that a strong foundation in anatomy is important nonetheless. In her ineffable way of reframing the question, though, she says, “Anatomy is not enough.”
Pearson concludes: “In the end, it is not Western scientific knowledge of the human body that will make Yoga safer. Changing the students approach to the discipline of yoga and the practice of asana will create the greatest shift.”
In the training I conduct, I emphasize a set of safety protocols that center mostly on the teacher–student relationship, scope of practice, and the role that yoga plays in someone’s healing and life. Although I do also instruct on how and when to modify poses and sequences to adapt to specific situations and conditions, learning these modifications and understanding how to employ them does not require more then a rudimentary knowledge of anatomy.
I am of the same opinion as Matthews, who says that studying anatomy is not essential to the practice or teaching of yoga. There are many safe and excellent yoga teachers who provide an invaluable service to humanity and are not talking about anatomy. Moreover, as Matthews also states: “if someone is going to use a discussion of anatomy as a teaching tool in a yoga class, they’d best know what they are talking about—and not just be repeating some of the over-simplified and dangerous things that are often blithely said.”
Regardless of what importance is given to anatomy in the training of yoga teachers or yoga therapists, there was overwhelming consensus among the teachers I polled that anatomy study alone is insufficient to ensuring safe yoga practice. Instead of looking to anatomy as a panacea for what ails the yoga profession, perhaps we do better to foster a different mentality around the physical work of yoga practice that minimizes any potential risks and encourages smarter choices.
When it comes to training teachers, most of the professionals I have spoken to agree that the key to teaching yoga safely boils down to the sensitivity and adaptability of the instructor, his or her capacity for dialogue with and responsiveness to a student, and the humble confidence of knowing what you know and what you don’t know.
J
at the risk of being perceived as stroking the one who is stroking me….
Well written!
It is always difficult to express how our perceptions and perspectives of a non-dualistic existence/world almost invariably start with dualism.
Hopefully people will understand that fear is a good thing, as long as we are mindful of it.
I think this is an important message, and it may generate some intense debate. Maybe IAYT would consider this as a panel discussion for their next SYTARs. (a related debate would be whether yoga teachers need to know psychology to teach yoga)
neil
I agree with a lot of what you said. I would add, and maybe I just didn’t see it clarified in what you wrote — I think that communicating anatomical terms in class, just as Kaminoff says, is not really a necessity, and can sometimes be a detriment to the student. However, I do believe that the instructor needs to have a foundation in anatomy, as the instructor needs to know structurally what is happening, even if they aren’t communicating it to the student.
But yes, I agree with you! I seem to teach more from recognizing patterns in my students movements and asanas, and I really appreciate working one-on-one with people, as that provides the most opportunity (in my opinion) of observing your students. One of the biggest things I’ve taken from my teacher is to inform your teaching through the constant observation of what your students are doing.
Blessings.
Oh, to clarify:
“However, I do believe that the instructor needs to have a foundation in anatomy, as the instructor needs to know structurally what is happening, even if they aren’t communicating it to the student.”
I mean, in the last part of that sentence, that the teacher doesn’t have to be communicating the specific anatomical / scientific terms to the student — the teacher can use language that is more accessible to the non-A&P trained person.
Hope that makes sense!
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your commentary. In my 200 hour introduction to yoga therapy course, I teach physiology and anatomy, as I feel every new teacher should have a basic knowledge of the human body and how it functions. The study of anatomy is not very high on my teacher training menu either, and I do not use anatomical terms as I feel it is too distracting from the information being taught. Having started out, over 35 years ago, with Integral yoga (Swami Satchidananda) and then Iyengar yoga, I too feel the need to teach according to individual student needs: ability, experience, conditions etc. Thank you for writing this timely and long awaited perspective on anatomy and yoga.
Recently I wrote an article on studying human anatomy. It is a great subject to undertake for anyone. If you know someone or would like to help your students studying this field this article has some great tips. You sound like a well rounded teacher.
Thanks for the great discussion with these knowledgeable individuals. As a yoga teacher I find my responsibility to be among many things – an educator. I find that when my students increase their understanding of their physical body they are able to experience the deeper impact of yoga. In our western culture we tend to live “above our neck” and have a real disconnect with the physical body. Part of my yoga philosophy is to honor our physical body, to take better care of it, and one of the beginning ways to do that is to have knowledge of what is the physical body so that it does become fully integrated with the mind/body and the emotional/spiritual body within us. I tend to not use anatomical references while teaching but weave into the instruction bites of knowledge of anatomy. I teach the same way with the names of postures – using the common English name before the Sanskrit name. I find avoiding a dogmatic approach makes teaching a yoga practice open to all regardless of their own level of knowledge – whether it is about the names of yoga poses or the name of a body part. Eventually over time their own self-knowledge and understanding has grown. Please keep this discussion alive – it is so important for all of us.
Well written. We have a pervasive assumption in our culture that more information or education is better than less. Setting aside education for education’s sake, the pragmatic reality is that “more information” is better only in a relative sense. That is, it is “better” only if it 1) *can be* acted upon in a way that leads to better results than the alternatives (including the alternative of doing nothing) and 2) *is* acted upon in a way that leads to a better result than the alternatives (including doing nothing). Alternatives *always* must be considered and weighed (including the problems with learning new information, ramp-up time for implementation, error rates, etc.), if for no other reason than we have limited time, energy, or resources.
A related problem is confusing the stated reason for providing the information with the actual effect. For example, if you provide anatomy education because you want to reduce the amount of injuries, your intentions in doing so are irrelevant to the question of whether you are actually doing something to reduce the chances of injury. (It may be relevant to moral or legal issues, but that is different and separate inquiry.) Too often, people substitute the stated intentions (whether their own or others) for an analysis of what the results of those actions are. That is a critical, but unfortunately common, error. The results of actions are independent of the intentions and must be independently established.
My views on yoga anatomy have been influenced by my fantastic, inspiring teacher, Kristen Leal. Anatomy texts typically take a reductionist approach, considering pieces of the body in isolation. This reductionist approach is relatively accessible. It allows us to learn a language we can use to talk about the body meaningfully. However, the reductionist approach has two substantial flaws. The “different” parts of our body are connected, in different ways on different people. Second, anatomy varies greatly from person to person. I’ve never done a dissection, but I’ve spoken to several who have. They uniformly expressed surprise at how connected all this stuff is, and how unique the donor’s body was – how greatly the shapes and locations of organs, muscles, bones, and tissues vary not just from person to person, but from the right side of a person’s body to the left.
Anatomy texts also often present information about the hamstrings, the knee joint, the neck of the femur bone – but our bodies aren’t the same, and an individual body may not conform to that. My father, like one out of roughly 20 people, has one extra rib, meaning the right side of his body has a DIFFERENT number of ribs than the left. I have a friend who’s right leg is about 3/8ths of an inch longer than her left. Her son also has one leg longer than the other. I’ve heard of a man without an infraspinatus muscle. People vary. I think this is beautiful! Add to these variations in people’s perfectly healthy, undamaged bodies accidents, injuries, surgeries, repetitive stress injuries, and compensatory mechanisms, and you get the unique person who decided to get up early and come to your yoga class.
If our study of anatomy is to benefit our asana practice and teaching (I suspect it can), we must understand that we don’t come out of the same factory made out of the same parts. I’ve heard that Krishnamacharya taught B.K.S. Iyengar and Pathabi Jois drastically different things because they were different people with different needs. There’s fantastic stuff in the Iyengar and Ashtanga traditions, but it’s not all right for me. I’ve been diagnosed with a pinched nerve at C7. I find shoulderstand on the ground quite comfortable, as long as I keep my elbows in and weight off my neck. If I do the blanket thing that Iyengar promotes, the pose is blindingly painful. Not only does it hurt enough to make me cry, but it keeps hurting for weeks after. The ashtanga spot where the teacher picks me up by the ankles and uses their feet to push my elbows in feels fantastic. A friend of mine who’d been doing un-propped shoulderstand for years developed neck problems as soon as she started doing it with blankets. There is no way to build a yoga sequence that’s useful for everyone – instead, the thing to do is to individualize the practice.
Here’s an example of the pleasures and perils of some anatomy study.
My right knee is a bit wonky. When I straighten my right knee, as in dandasana, the patella (kneecap) lies just about the middle of the knee. As I bend the knee, the patella drifts to the right. Many yoga teachers are taught (accurately) that warrior two pose can be injurious to the front knee if the knee joint isn’t over the ankle. As the knee drifts toe either side, this alignment strains the ligaments that hold the joint together. So in teacher training, we’re taught to look at the kneecap, and make sure it tracks over the second toe. For most of us, this works pretty well. If I bend my knee to 90 degrees, my kneecap tracks over my pinky toe, because the patella drifts to the lateral side of the joint as I bend the knee. Well meaning teachers, fresh out of teacher training, usually push my knee out of safe, healthy alignment, into painful, injurious alignment if I give them the opportunity. My body’s kind of a mess – I have many issues like this. If we talk about my injuries before class for 15 minutes, I will not cover them all.
Proper alignment is non-injurious. Injurious alignment is improper. A meaningful study of anatomy can help you get there, but it’s not so easy to squeeze into a 500 hour teacher training. I’ve invested hundreds of hours into my study of anatomy, and I feel I’m still mostly scratching the surface.
Thank you for writing this piece. It was an honor and a privilege to meet you a few weeks ago. Your workshop gave me some real food for thought.
All the best.
-Nick Guldi
Hey Nick-
Thanks for taking a moment to chime in. To your point about reductionist consideration of anatomy, here is a great video from Leslie Kaminoff on the knee:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=415a5ySYSVI
On a more nit-picky (potentially semantic) note, I don’t think your body is “a mess.” As you rightly point out, all bodies have idiosyncrasies. If you can walk and function and your pain is manageable then I think you doing OK. Could be a lot worse then a pesky patella.
It was a great pleasure to meet you as well. Discerning students like yourself make yoga teachers better. Much appreciated.
Cheers.