Why Injury Might Be the Best Thing to Happen to Your Yoga Practice

Getting injured sucks. No question. It’s disorienting, painful, and depending on the severity, it can completely derail your yoga practice.

But it doesn’t have to.

In fact, injury can be a gift—a gateway to a deeper, more embodied practice.

I’m not saying that because I read it in a book. I’m saying it because I lived it. I experienced an injury that took over a year to heal, but it ultimately transformed my practice and made me a better teacher.

A few years ago, I was in a hot vinyasa class. The playlist was on point, and I was flowing through a dreamy sequence, completely in the zone. As I transitioned from reverse warrior to triangle, I heard it—a loud pop.

Like, an actual pop from somewhere inside my body, followed by sharp pain at the top of my right hamstring.

Shocked, I froze mid-flow and looked around. The pop was so loud I was sure everyone heard it. But no one did. They kept moving, while I crouched awkwardly, gripping the spot where my hamstring connects to my glute.

After a few deep breaths, I eased back into movement. The pain wasn’t unbearable—just a dull ache. I finished class with heightened awareness, noticing every transition.

But a few hours later, the real pain kicked in. And it really freaking hurt. Sitting, walking, lying down—there was no escaping the throbbing discomfort.

The next day, I rolled out my mat and immediately rolled it back up. No way. I wasn’t going to risk making it worse.

A few days later, after some rest, ice, and ibuprofen, I felt good enough to move again. But the moment I got into my flow, the pain returned—full force.

Yoga had become such a core part of my identity, my mental health, and my everyday rhythm that not practicing felt impossible. So I called one of my most trusted teachers.

“You’ve got yoga butt,” he said.

“Yoga what?!”

And so began my year-long journey with yoga butt—what I now know as proximal hamstring tendinopathy, an injury at the point where the hamstrings attach to the ischial tuberosity (your sits bones).

My teacher told me that to heal, I’d need to modify almost every pose in my practice—and start incorporating weight training.

At first, I refused. You’re telling me I have to bend my right knee in every forward fold? Every triangle? Every half moon? And start doing deadlifts? 

Ewwww....

But after resisting for as long as I could, I surrendered.

Injury is a Wake-Up Call

I was forced to slow down, to feel more, to pay deeper attention. When something hurts, we can’t power through—we have to get curious.

This injury taught me to honor what my body was asking for, not what my ego was striving toward. It shifted my practice from performing poses to exploring sensation. I became more present, more compassionate, and more connected to the real heart of yoga.

Injury Invites Intimacy

There’s something profoundly intimate about practicing with limitation. You learn to listen more closely, move more intentionally, and release the need to be impressive.

It’s humbling—but in the best way.

When we meet our bodies where they are, yoga stops being a test and starts being a relationship.

Yoga Isn’t About Mastery—It’s About Union

The word yoga means union—not perfection. Not performance.

Union of breath and body. Mind and moment. Effort and ease.

So if you’re injured, or navigating a season of physical change, this moment is your greatest teacher.

The Universe is telling you: You’re ready for the next level of your yoga practice.

Because when we practice through injury, we practice presence. And that’s what yoga has always been about.

From My Mat to Yours

If you’re healing right now, you’re not broken—you’re in transformation. Let your practice shift with you. Let it become softer, slower, more spacious. Let it meet you in this new place.

And remember: The obstacle in the path is the path.