…or is the world around it simply changing?
I remember a time, and not even that long ago, when yoga classes were so packed that you had to carefully stagger your mat to avoid hitting your neighbor during a sun salutation.
I went on huge yoga conferences, sold-out workshops and international teachers traveling from one event to the next. Yoga seemed to be EVERYWHERE.
But a few days ago, I was chatting with a friend who's also a yoga teacher, and we found ourselves talking about how much things have changed.
Studios that once offered yoga exclusively are now expanding their schedules, changing their concepts or closing altogether. And where there used to be rows of yoga mats, you'll increasingly find Pilates Reformers, strength classes or other fitness concepts.
Which made us wonder: Is yoga slowly disappearing?
The Pilates elephant in the room
Before anyone thinks I'm about to start a campaign against Pilates, here's a little personal fun fact: I was born and raised in Moenchengladbach, Germany. The very same town where Joseph Pilates was born. So perhaps I have a geographical obligation to appreciate his work. :) And I genuinely do. Pilates is a wonderful movement system when taught with a good understanding of anatomy, biomechanics and the individual body.
It's also undeniably having a moment. You only have to look at the growing number of Reformer studios and their waiting lists to see that.
But here's something interesting: while Pilates is currently leading the popularity charts on platforms like ClassPass in the US (..but we can easily transfer this to the rest of the Western world), yoga is still right behind it. And people are actually booking more yoga classes than they did the year before.
So perhaps yoga isn't disappearing quite as dramatically as it sometimes feels. Still, something is shifting. And I don't think we can explain it simply by looking at which workout happens to be fashionable right now.
When movement becomes a subscription
Think about how much the way we book classes has changed.
With platforms such as ClassPass and other multi-studio memberships, you can attend yoga on Monday, Pilates on Wednesday, strength training on Friday and perhaps try something completely different the following week.
All through one membership.
And honestly, from a customer's perspective, that's pretty convenient. You get variety, flexibility and the opportunity to discover places you might never have visited otherwise.
But what does this mean for small, independent studios? Traditionally, yoga studios relied on people coming back regularly. You bought a course, attended a weekly class, got to know your teacher and slowly became part of a community. I still do.
Today, the relationship can look very different.
You might book a class because it's available on your membership app, enjoy it, and then visit another studio the following week. The experience becomes more flexible, but perhaps also more interchangeable.
And for small studios, this changes the economics. Third-party bookings can be helpful for filling otherwise empty spaces, but they don't necessarily bring in the same revenue as direct bookings.
When you're running a small, dedicated space, with rent, insurance, equipment, training and all the other costs that come with keeping a business alive, every place on the mat matters….especially when you don't have 20 or more spaces to fill.
And there's another question that interests me even more:
What happens when we move from committing to a practice to constantly consuming different experiences?
Not because that's necessarily wrong. Variety can be wonderful, but I wonder whether something changes when we stop returning to the same practice long enough to notice how we're changing within it.
Have we become used to always doing more?
We live in a world that places enormous value on productivity, efficiency and measurable progress. We track our steps, our sleep, our diet, our workouts and even our recovery on phones, watches and rings. And movement has increasingly become another area of life where we measure how well we're doing.
How much stronger am I? How much have I improved? How many repetitions can I manage?
There's nothing wrong with wanting to become stronger or more mobile. These things matter, and I spend a lot of time working on them myself and in my own classes. But sometimes I wonder whether we've become so focused on what our bodies can achieve that we forget to experience what is actually happening inside them.
Not everything that matters can be measured in repetitions or recorded on a smartwatch.
What about the way we want to age?
Something else I find interesting is the growing conversation around longevity, healthy aging and nervous-system support. Suddenly, we're talking about things that didn't always feature so prominently in the fitness world.
How do we maintain mobility as we age? How do we stay strong and independent? How can we manage stress and support our wellbeing over the years?
And while the wellness industry has certainly discovered a new marketing opportunity in the word longevity or somatic (or nervous system), I think the questions underneath are genuinely important. Because ultimately, we're not just exercising for the body we have today. We're also thinking about the body we'd like to live in 10, 20 or 30 years from now.
Research suggests that yoga can support aspects of physical function in older adults, including balance, mobility and strength. There is also evidence for potential benefits in areas such as stress and sleep.
That doesn't mean yoga is the secret to living longer. Nor does it replace strength training, cardiovascular exercise or other forms of movement.
But I find it interesting that we're beginning to value things that have always been part of a broader yoga practice in the Western culture: moving with awareness, working with the breath, paying attention to the body and allowing space for rest.
Perhaps what's changing isn't only which exercise we prefer, but also what we hope to get from moving our bodies in the first place.
And this is where my own relationship with yoga comes in.
What I (still) love about yoga
My own teaching is highly functional. As a LYT Yoga teacher and somatic practitioner, I work with movement principles rooted in anatomy, mobility, stability and strength. We're interested in how the body moves through everyday life, not just how a yoga pose looks.
Sometimes these classes are physically demanding. Sometimes they're slow. But underneath the movement is something I consider equally important:
Learning to pay attention.
Where am I holding unnecessary tension? How does my breath change when something becomes challenging? What happens when I slow a movement down? What does my body actually need today?
These aren't always easy questions to answer.
And in my work with somatic practices and therapeutic breathwork, I often see how unfamiliar it can feel to turn our attention inward.
For some people, lying in Savasana is wonderful. For others, being still can feel uncomfortable, restless or even overwhelming. Not everyone needs more stillness. Sometimes movement is the more accessible starting point.
And not every tired body needs another hour of rest. Sometimes what feels supportive is moving, swaying, rocking, tapping, shaking or simply changing position.
To me, yoga can offer room for all of that.
It's not only about getting stronger or more flexible. It's also about learning to recognize what is happening in our bodies and responding with a little more awareness. And I think that's relevant at any age.
Perhaps we're losing something else
When my friend and I spoke about the changes in yoga, I think there was also a little nostalgia involved. Those packed studios weren't just about yoga being popular. They were places where people returned week after week. Where teachers knew their students. Where friendships developed and where a regular practice became part of everyday life. You were part of a group of likeminded people!
Of course, not every studio was like that. And yoga's commercial boom certainly had its own problems: expensive clothing, perfect poses, celebrity teachers and increasingly unrealistic expectations.
But there was something valuable about returning to the same space and allowing a practice to develop over time. I’m really thankful that I can offer a place like this to a small community here in Malta.
I wonder whether that kind of continuity is becoming harder to maintain in an industry increasingly shaped by trends, subscriptions and the next new experience.
For a small independent studio, competing with large fitness businesses or multi-studio memberships isn't always about offering a better class. Sometimes it's simply about being able to offer the same flexibility, visibility or price.
And that's not always possible or even desirable.
So, is yoga dead?
I don't think so.
The numbers don't suggest that people have stopped practicing yoga. And there are still wonderful teachers, communities and studios doing meaningful work. But perhaps the era when yoga occupied the centre of the wellness world is fading.
Perhaps what we're seeing is less about yoga itself and more about how we choose to move, how we spend our money and how we relate to the places and people who guide us.
I don't think yoga needs to compete with Pilates. Or strength training. Or whichever movement trend comes next. And I certainly don't believe everyone needs to do yoga. But I do hope there will always be room for small, independent spaces where movement isn't just another appointment to tick off.
Where people can return, build relationships, explore their bodies and be supported by someone who gets to know them beyond a single class.
Maybe yoga doesn't need to be the next big thing anymore. Maybe it can simply be a practice worth returning to. And perhaps that's enough.
