I wish I could come up with a better way to describe the yoga poses that seem to be turning a certain kind of yogi into Insta-celebrities overnight. You know what I’m talking about—the slow, controlled press up to Handstand, the effortless balanced Scorpion Pose with the feet resting on the top of the head, the backbends so deep that the person performing them looks like he is literally bent in half, and all the other poses that are just plain out of reach for the vast majority of us who practice yoga day in and day out. Most people call these poses, “advanced asana”, which is a term I really dislike. Allow me to explain.

Here’s a definition of “advanced” from Dictionary.com: “Ahead or far or further along in progress, complexity, knowledge, skill, etc.”

Is Scorpion Pose really more complex than an impeccably-aligned Warrior I? Does it really take more skill? More knowledge? That’s debatable. Think about all that’s going on in even the most “basic” standing poses: The care it takes to find correct alignment, the precision, the control, the balance, the way the poses ask us to use our muscles in ways we don’t in the course of a normal day. Triangle and Warrior Poses are quite complex when you break down all the actions you have to incorporate to practice them well. I’m a yoga teacher who has been practicing and studying these poses for more than a decade, and when I study with a new teacher, I often STILL uncover new subtle actions and complexities in these poses that I never even knew were there.

Then, there’s the idea that “advanced” poses are somehow “further along in progress.” Is it really progress? There has been a lot of discussion in the yoga community recently about whether these fancy-pants poses (that’s what I call them—think it will catch on?) are really something we should aspire to anyway. Could pushing your body to these far extremes be doing more harm than good? Is it misguided to assert that these poses are therapeutic when they might actually be harmful? Why are we so obsessed with being able to put our bodies into any particular shape when we’re all different shapes, sizes, and come from such varied backgrounds? And why do we idolize yogis on social media who can create the most extreme shapes with their bodies, when there are likely hundreds (maybe even thousands!) of talented, local teachers who can relate to us and what we’re experiencing in our own bodies in a more helpful, personalized way?

Isn’t the point of the practice to tap into our body’s wisdom to discern what’s healthy and safe for us in any given moment—and to create more peace in our MINDS?

In that case, an advanced posture would be one that helps us to be completely mindful of what’s happening in our bodies. It is a posture that helps us to experience freedom and expansiveness, but not at the expense at our health and integrity. An advanced posture will also teaches us control, self-restraint, to balance ease and effort, and develops a calm confidence in ourselves and our abilities without strengthening our ego. It COULD be a fancy pants Scorpion Pose on the beach, but it could also be a sweaty, awkward Warrior 2 under the harsh fluorescent lights at a local gym. It could get 2.4 million likes on Instagram, or it could be something that only you and your cat sees (and we all know your cat isn’t impressed). And advanced pose may or may not make you look better in a bikini (whatever that means), but it will fill your heart with gratitude for every breath, compassion for others, and a deeper understanding of yourself. It isn’t always pretty, but it IS practical. THAT is what I aspire to. If I learn how to press up to Handstand along the way, it will be an unexpected (but very happy) perk of my dedicated practice, but definitely not the goal.