Let’s just go ahead and admit it: not everyone at that 6 a.m. sunrise yoga class is there to align their chakras. Some of us are simply trying to align our leggings with our crop tops and not fall over during Warrior III. We say we’re on a journey to inner peace, but let’s be real—somewhere between the crystal-infused essential oil sprays and the soothing sounds of Tibetan singing bowls, we got hooked on the stretchy pants and that post-class smoothie pic that hits just right on Instagram.
Look, no shade. I, too, once thought yoga was a solemn path to enlightenment. I walked into my first class in an old college T-shirt and sweatpants, thinking I’d leave with a calmer mind and looser hamstrings. Instead, I left with deep insecurity about my outfit and an urgent need to Google "what is athleisure and how do I get it in my life immediately?"
That was the beginning of the end—or maybe, the start of something beautiful.
Within a week, I owned two pairs of name-brand yoga pants that cost more than my monthly phone bill, a stainless-steel water bottle adorned with motivational stickers ("Breathe In, Chill Out"—thank you, Etsy), and a mat in “earth tone sage” that looked a lot like regular green, but with better marketing. Inner peace? Still pending. But did I look like someone who had their life together? Oh yes. I radiated the exact energy of someone who pretends to meditate but mostly just scrolls Pinterest in lotus pose.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Yoga is amazing. The breathing, the mindfulness, the stretches that somehow wring your soul out like a wet towel—it’s transformative stuff. But somewhere along the way, a few of us (hi, yes, me) realized it could also be... cute.
There’s just something magical about the yoga lifestyle. The plant-filled studios. The way everyone smells faintly of eucalyptus and smugness. It’s intoxicating. You go in thinking you’re going to heal your inner child, and suddenly you're debating which shade of "moonstone beige" matches your reusable tote bag.
And don’t even get me started on yoga pants. They’re the real spiritual awakening. No waistband has ever treated me so kindly. Jeans? Toxic. Slacks? Satan’s fabric. But yoga pants? They cradle you. They support you. They say, “You got this,” even when you definitely don’t got this and you're in child's pose wondering if it’s too early to go home and make waffles.
People claim the spiritual draw of yoga is the path to enlightenment. And yes, technically, that’s true. But the rest of us? We’re here for the vibe. We’re chasing a different kind of light—the golden hour glow on our face during an outdoor yoga class while someone plays a handpan. Nirvana, but make it aesthetic.
Let’s talk about the Instagram effect
One hour of yoga? Great for the mind. One carefully filtered photo of yourself mid-tree pose with a scenic mountain in the background and the caption “finding balance?" Absolutely unmatched. That photo will outlive us all. Inner peace is fleeting. Engagement is forever.
To be fair, the yoga community knows how to sell serenity. There’s a whole economy around achieving stillness in style. You’ve got moon journals, chakra-themed candles, hand-poured incense that smells like what I imagine Zendaya’s aura must smell like. I bought a mala necklace once thinking it was a cool accessory. Then someone asked me what mantra I used it with. I panicked and said “namaste,” which I now know is not a mantra and also not even correctly used in that sentence. But hey, it matched my sports bra, and that’s what really matters.
Of course, the best part about all this is the illusion of control. Life is chaos. The world is on fire, both metaphorically and sometimes literally. But in yoga class, you get a little bubble of calm where the only thing you have to worry about is whether your pigeon pose looks weird. It’s a place where adulting pauses. Where you can say things like “I’m really trying to open my heart chakra” and people nod instead of asking if you’ve paid your taxes yet.
And listen, if you’re one of those truly grounded people who wakes up to do sunrise yoga on the beach while listening to chanting monks and sipping ashwagandha tea, good for you. Truly. You are the goal. But for the rest of us? We’ll keep showing up for the good vibes, the stretchy pants, and the 15 minutes of savasana where we can pretend our to-do lists don’t exist. (Pro tip: always stay very still during savasana. If no one knows you’re awake, no one can make you leave.)
At the end of the day, yoga means different things to different people. Some are there for spiritual growth. Some are healing from trauma. Some just needed a new hobby that involves lying on the floor in a dark room. And yes, some of us came for inner peace and stayed for the yoga pants.
No shame in that game. Because if enlightenment happens to arrive while I’m wrapped in a buttery-soft pair of leggings and sipping a smoothie called "Zen Berry Bliss," then maybe that’s the universe’s way of saying: “Hey, you’re doing just fine.”
Namaste—and pass the granola.
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