Presence Is Contagious in the Yoga Room

What students feel most in a yoga class isn’t technique... it’s the presence the teacher brings.

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When we talk about teaching yoga, we often focus on what we offer, the sequence, the cues, the music, the theme. But what I’ve seen over many years of teaching is that what truly shapes a class has very little to do with what we say.

It has everything to do with how we show up.

Students may come for flexibility, strength, or stress relief, but what they respond to most, often without knowing why - is presence. A teacher who is grounded and settled creates a different kind of space. People soften. Breath deepens. Nervous systems begin to settle. Something unspoken becomes available.

Presence is contagious.

Teaching beyond technique

Early in my teaching journey, after completing my first teacher training and stepping into the role of teacher, I realised something important: yoga isn’t really about the poses. It’s not about saying more or doing more.

Yoga is about listening.

Listening to our own bodies. Listening to the room. Listening to what’s actually needed in the moment. When a teacher is truly present, teaching becomes responsive rather than performative. Less effort is required, and yet the impact is often deeper.

Technique matters, of course. But technique is the container. Presence is what fills it.

The energy of the room

Most of us have experienced it, walking into a class and immediately feeling at ease, or the opposite: walking into a room that feels rushed or tense.

Teachers set the tone long before the first pose is taken.

When a teacher arrives settled within themselves, students feel it straight away. Even before instructions begin, the body senses safety. Breath slows. The system becomes more receptive. This isn’t something we manufacture. It’s something we embody.

Presence communicates, whether we intend it to or not.

Less instruction, more experience

Many students today are less interested in being told what to do and more interested in how something feels. People are overloaded with information and constant stimulation. They’re tired of striving, fixing, and improving themselves.

What they’re hungry for is direct experience.

This is where presence becomes the teaching. When we slow down, speak less, and trust the space, students often go deeper. Not because they’re doing more, but because they’re allowed to feel more.

Silence, when held with care, can be deeply supportive. Stillness can be more regulating than any cue. A teacher who is comfortable resting in quiet gives permission for others to do the same.

Presence and the nervous system

Much of what students are responding to now isn’t philosophical, it’s physiological. Many people arrive at yoga feeling stressed, overstimulated, and disconnected from their bodies.

Presence creates regulation.

When a teacher is calm and grounded, students naturally co-regulate. They don’t need to understand this intellectually. Their bodies already know. This is why a class can feel nourishing even when very little “happens.”

Presence isn’t passive. It’s deeply supportive.

Remembering, not creating

One of the biggest misconceptions teachers carry is that they need to create presence for others. In reality, presence is our natural state. It never left us, we don’t create it, we remember it.

As teachers, our role isn’t to perform calm or manufacture stillness. It’s to get out of the way enough for presence to be felt - to unfold. Through simple practices, slow movement, breath awareness, body sensing, quiet sitting, we invite students back to what’s already here.

This is why meditation, when taught simply and experientially, is accessible to everyone. It meets people exactly where they are.

Teaching from being

Over time, teaching from presence becomes less about effort and more about trust. Trusting that less can be enough. Trusting that silence has value. Trusting that your own settled state already offers something meaningful.

This way of teaching doesn’t exhaust teachers, it sustains them.

When teaching comes from being rather than constant doing, burnout eases. Teaching becomes a shared experience rather than a performance. Both teacher and student are supported.

In a busy, noisy world, presence has become rare and therefore powerful. Students can feel the difference between a class that is technically good and one that feels alive.

And the beautiful thing is this: you don’t need to change who you are to teach from presence. You simply need to arrive.

That alone changes the room.