Yoga & Flexibility

I am not a naturally flexible person.

That might sound like a strange thing to say as someone who has been practising yoga for over twenty years, and before that trained as a dancer. People often assume flexibility is a given in those worlds, that it arrives early and sticks around obediently. That has never been my experience. Any flexibility I have has been earned slowly, deliberately, and with a lot of ongoing effort. Even now, I would still consider myself relatively inflexible given my pathway. Nothing about it comes easily, and nothing stays without maintenance.

What has become increasingly clear to me—especially now that I’m in my forties—is how much the context around flexibility matters. Warming up properly is non-negotiable. Strength is essential. Without strength, deep stretches aren’t freedom, they’re vulnerability. Strength is what keeps the body safe, what allows range of motion to be explored rather than endured. The older I get, the more obvious this becomes. Flexibility without support is not some badge of honour; it’s a gamble.

Of course, there is joy in exploring deeper expressions of asana. It can be genuinely fun to play with shapes, to see what’s possible today that wasn’t possible yesterday. I won’t pretend otherwise. But I also know exactly what’s happening there. That thrill is largely ego. And yoga, inconveniently and beautifully, has never been about feeding the ego.

Yoga is not about flexibility. The real magic is in the journey. I know how that sounds—like something printed on a cushion—but when you actually live it, it stops being sentimental and starts being practical. When you’re honest about what you need on the mat, when you listen instead of perform, you are rehearsing that same honesty for your life. The mat is a training ground.

Understanding what a pose is for—its intention, its target area, its purpose—changes everything. Alignment matters. Sensation matters. How a pose feels matters far more than how it looks. Take Utthita Trikonasana, Triangle Pose. It is absolutely not about touching your toes. Among other things, it opens the side body. It stretches the obliques and the lateral muscles, which is especially valuable in a world where so many of us spend hours sitting and collapsing forward. If you hinge forward just to reach the floor, you bypass the very thing the pose is offering. You get the appearance of depth and miss the substance.

Flexibility is a funny subject in yoga. It’s often treated as a measure of advancement, a visible shorthand for skill or dedication. That makes it intimidating. I know many people who won’t even try yoga because they believe they’re “not flexible enough.” That belief breaks my heart a little every time. Yoga is not about flexibility. It never has been.

Yoga is about showing up. Doing the work. Listening to your body. Respecting yourself. At its roots, yoga is a system designed to unite mind, body, and spirit. Through physical postures, breathwork, and meditation, it cultivates self-awareness, mental clarity, and resilience. It was never meant to be a stretching class. It is a philosophy. A way of relating to yourself and the world. Its aim is harmony, and ultimately liberation—moksha—from unnecessary suffering. That’s a staggering ambition when you think about it.

I like to think of flexibility as a side effect. A pleasant one, sometimes a useful one, but never the goal. Yoga reduces stress. It builds mental fortitude. It teaches you how to stay present when things are uncomfortable, and how to soften when you’ve been gripping too hard. Those skills travel with you. They show up in your relationships, your boundaries, your ability to advocate for yourself and for others.

So when you see someone folding themselves into a shape that looks impossible, be happy for them. Celebrate their body and their curiosity. Just don’t assume they have a better or more advanced practice than you do. Every time you show up on your mat despite exhaustion, doubt, fear, or distraction—that’s yoga. Every time you choose to opt out of something that doesn’t feel right for your body in that moment—that’s yoga. Every time you stay with a challenge long enough to learn something new about yourself—that’s yoga.

And when you take those lessons off the mat and into your life—when you stop judging yourself and others by appearances, when you speak up, when you listen, when you act with integrity—that is a truly advanced practice. Far more advanced than touching your toes.