The responses I get when people hear about the permission stones is so telling about the state of yoga as it is currently practiced in the US. Almost always I hear a variation of, “Please, correct me! I know I make mistakes all of the time. I can use all of the help I can get!”

(Where in that introduction statement do I ever say anything about corrections? Right, I don’t.)

These comments reflect the widespread and deep-set belief that there is only one right way to practice each pose, and that our bodies can and or should be pulled into that correct shape when they don’t get their on their own. That any other shape we may find ourselves in must be wrong, must require “correction.” And that the teacher is the expert on what your body should be doing, even if this is the first time he/she has ever met you.

So this may be surprising to hear, but I don’t offer hands-on touch for the purpose of pulling anyone deeper into a pose or to “fix” their alignment.

Note- This is so widespread and such a problematic misconception that I will be dedicating a whole blog post to it soon! But for now, suffice it to say this: the teacher may be the expert on whatever form of movement practice you are participating in, but you will always be the expert on your own body. Ideally, you and the teacher combine your expertise one-on-one to figure out how to move (the teacher’s expertise) your body (your expertise) best within the movement practice itself, according to a set of predetermined goals. Barring that, in a group class setting, you are still the expert on your body, and should always feel free to combine what the teacher offers with your own knowledge of what will work or be good for your body.

Let me say that again: I do not use touch to force bodies deeper into a pose or to pull them into a “correct” shape.

I primarily use touch to foster connection, relaxation, and proprioceptive awareness. (Propioception is your awareness of exactly where your body is in space at any given moment.) So, for example, if we are standing in a bone-stacked version of Tadasana, Mountain Pose, (note that I call this one version of mountain pose! Rather than the only version or the correct version), and your hips are lining up over your toes rather than over your ankles, I might use touch to guide your hips backwards until they are stacked over ankles. Or I might use touch when you are in child’s pose to help you develop awareness of your breath expanding throughout the full thoracic cavity so that the space between each of your vertebra can increase with your inhales, and decrease with your exhales.

What I’m not doing, though, is using touch to bring you into “the right alignment” or “the correct shape.’

Why not?

Because, my friends, there is no such thing as the one correct alignment for any given yoga pose.

Most of what gets taught as “correct alignment” in yoga classes are really about aesthetic appeal. About using the body to create shapes that are symmetrical, or that consist only of right angles, or that impress through pretzeling and strength demonstrated with clean lines.

The book in teacher training often touted as the Bible for cueing asana, Light on Yoga, was written by a man whose entire career was based on performance. That is to say, based on his ability to make shapes with his body that were pleasing to the gaze of others (or to that of the camera).

B.K.S. Iyengar also brought the use of props into the practice of yoga, making many poses much more accessible to many different bodies. But the classic alignment cues for Trikonasana, Triangle Pose, for example, are not about finding a Triangle that works well for your body today. They are about using your body to create a specific shape. About being able to recreate that exact same shape out of every body. Regardless of whether or not that specific shape is going to be good for your real body, today.

Here is the secret, my friends, that I wish every yoga teacher and every yoga practitioner knew: Every pose can be inhabited in an almost unlimited number of ways, according to three main factors: 1. The one specific body embodying the pose, 2. The intention of this particular yoga practice, and 3. The intention of the pose itself.

No two bodies in a room practicing yoga are ever alike—not even if there are identical twins in the room. What our bodies need from, are capable of, or are limited by in any given pose is determined by a complex and extensive set of factors, of which genetic makeup is only one part. Our lifelong health and injury histories play a huge role in what our bodies need, can do, and should do. So do our occupations, our hobbies, our commutes—all of the factors that determine our patterns of repetitive movement or holding of tension. Our fears and our motivations come into play here, as do our recent levels and quality of sleep, eating, exercise, and stress. Who else is in the room and how comfortable we feel with them. And the list goes on, a whole slew of bio-psycho-social factors that determine how our bodies show up on any given day.

And we change! What I am capable of and limited by and will benefit from is not the same today as it was last week as it will be in a month. So how I practice a pose today should not necessarily be the same as I practiced it yesterday or a month ago or last year. Even within a single day, or within a single yoga session, how I practice a pose can and should change, based on how warmed up or cold, tired or energized my body is.

In other words: The intensity and challenge levels of each pose are determined not by the pose itself, but by every other pose—every other move!—that came before it. And not just on the yoga mat. How spinal extension feels—and what your body needs from spinal extension—differs based on the positions in which you slept the night before, how you have been holding tension, what postures you have spent most of your day in before arriving on the yoga mat

At the start of every class I teach, I offer an opportunity to set an intention for your yoga practice. Often, people’s intention in practice falls along the lines of peace, relaxation, or stress release. Sometimes it could be strength. Patience. Joy. There is no wrong intention for the practice—it is whatever you would like to get out of your time on the mat, today.

But if your intention in your practice is peace or relaxation, how you approach, for example, a Vrkasana, Tree Pose, should be different than if your intention is strength.

For one intention, you might choose to keep your hands wherever you feel most stable on your body, set your gaze on a fixed point, and let the sole of your lifted foot come down whenever you notice yourself holding your breath or working too hard. For the other, you might take your arms up to the sky, or let them and your torso sway around like the branches of a tree in a breeze; you might choose to challenge your propioception and balance by closing your eyes, or by shifting your gaze from point to point around the room.

There are no enlightenment points for choosing what might appear to be the “deepest” or “most advanced” (i.e., most aesthetically appealing or impressive) variation of the pose. Nor is there any one single option that is the best or “most correct” for all bodies at all times. There are only the options that make the most sense for your body and your intention for practicing today.

I want to let you in on one of yoga’s most well-kept secrets: every pose can be worked—and worked differently!—to achieve a wide variety of physical intentions.

Let’s take Uttanasana, a standing forward fold, as an example. Most often people assume that forward folds are about lengthening through the hamstrings. And it’s true: you can keep your legs straight as you fold forward, reaching your tailbone towards the sky, and you will find length through the hamstrings.

Even here, however, intention matters. You can lengthen through the hamstrings as a passive stretch, letting the weight of gravity do the work for you. And that might be the perfect thing to do, especially if the pose is serving as a rest or reset between sequences! But you can also choose to work eccentric strength through the hamstrings as they lengthen (and hamstring strength is something that everyone who spends too much time sitting needs to work on!). Hinge from the hips s-l-o-w-l-y, send the hips slightly backwards as you lower down, resisting the effect of gravity the whole way. This is an entirely different experience of the pose, based on a very different intention for using it.

These are just two options based on working hamstring length in different ways. Neither one is the correct way to practice. They simply serve different purposes.

And there are so many other things you could choose to use a forward fold to work! You might be most interested in isolating pelvic movement from flexion of the lumbar spine. Or in working on strength in spinal flexion against gravity. Your intention could focus on finding axial extension through the spine with gravity creating traction of the vertebra. Or to change the patterns of lymph movement and blood circulation.

And while it should, by now, be clear that your intention can be to work or rest in a forward fold, it could also be simply to use the forward fold as a transition, flowing from standing to seated or standing to step back into a lunge or standing to prone.

You could have an entire class or workshop sequenced simply around forward folds (not that I necessarily recommend this!), exploring as many different ways to inhabit the pose and opportunities for work or rest as you can imagine. None of them would be wrong—although you might find some that are wrong for your body today, or that are wrong for your personal intention for this practice session, or that are wrong for the stated reason for being in the pose. None of them would be more correct.