I used to think I didn’t need yoga blocks.
Or straps.
Or blankets.
Or props of any kind.
When I first started taking yoga classes, I was confident that I could do it all on my own. I could stretch, contort, and muscle my way through my practice. I convinced myself that every extra strain, every push to reach my toes, was progress. And doing it on my own would make me a true yogi.
Then I came to Yoga Centre Winnipeg, where a mat surrounded by props is a normal part of practice. Where blocks bring the floor to me so I can lengthen my spine. Or give my knees something to release into in baddha konasana, so I can stop gripping. Where a chair supports my forehead in a forward fold and challenges my extension in a backbend.
Little by little, props began to not only transform my yoga practice, but me as well.
Yoga comes off the mat
Like my staunch belief that I didn’t need props in yoga, I also believed I didn’t needed help in my personal life either. Raised in a vacuum of people pleasing, hustle culture, and total independence as a badge of honour, I prided myself on doing everything on my own.
And then a teacher slid a block under my hand in triangle pose – a pose I used to avoid doing – and with that simple act, a loosening began. I got curious about triangle instead of fearing it. The block allowed me to find length through my side body and a little more openness in my chest. Rather than being concerned that the block would reflect what I couldn’t do, it made me wonder how it could deepen my practice.
As I kept exploring prop use in Beginner and Intermediate classes, I noticed that my yoga mat looked lonely without at least on a block on it. And ever so slowly, I noticed that doing everything alone off the mat was a bit lonely too.
Props as a practice of community
There’s vulnerability in building relationships with others and asking for help. There’s also vulnerability in beginning to use props. They’re unfamiliar and it can be challenging to know how to use them straight away. It takes some experimentation and a willingness to try combined with an openness to observe what comes up in our experience.
What happens in my body when I use a prop this way? How does it feel? By adding these external tools, we can go deeper into ourselves and build new connections.
Can’t it be like that with our community too?
Surprising strength
By using the support of the wall, I was discovering and using different muscles, noticing different parts of my body, and building new neural pathways. I may not need the wall to come into a lunge, but I often think about it being there to remind myself of the power of support and the strength it unlocked in me that day.
It's like asking my friends, coworkers, and acquaintances for help. It can be uncomfortable and feel strange at first, but it can also allow me to open new parts of my relationships with them and new parts of myself in the process.
I may be able to get groceries alone, but running errands with someone else is that much more enjoyable. It strengthens our bond and my sense of connection beyond myself. Just like props have strengthened my yoga practice.
Props can help us build connection
I no longer think of props as a symbol of how I “can’t” do a pose. I look at them as a form of connection between myself and the things and people around me. I think that connection is a key piece of yoga; something we can practice on the mat, so that we can take it into our daily lives. By embracing yoga props, I’m learning how to embrace the community around me too.
These days, I can’t imagine my practice without a prop or two in reach. And while leaning on my community is still a tough one for me to do, it gets a little easier every time I do it.
.jpg)
.jpeg)