Props are the Parboiled Pasta of Yoga
I've spent most of my life looking for shortcuts. Sometimes they work. Sometimes you end up with a pot of cheesy pasta glue and a very disappointed babysitter.
In elementary school in France, lunch break was from 11:30 to 1:30 ( I KNOW) which meant my sister and I could go home every day, eat in front of a game show, and (obviously) change outfits.
One day, our babysitter had to run downstairs to the bakery (also obvious), and she left me in charge of starting the pasta. She said, “When the water bubbles, put the pasta in.”
My nine-year-old brain thought: If I add shredded cheese to the boiling pasta, lunch will be ready faster. Genius, right?
Wrong. It was a gloopy disaster, and we had to start from scratch. I was crushed and offended that my “foolproof” plan had failed.
My love for quick fixes runs deep. Years of devouring Cosmo's “3 ways to…” lists made me believe there was always a shortcut. Which is probably why I was drawn to Vinyasa Yoga: expertly sequenced, purposefully curated, music that hits you right in the gut : perfect for early motherhood when I needed something big, effective, and fast.
Then I started teaching. I still love a fast, juicy flow, but in a world obsessed with “quick tips” and “3 poses for that,” I started to wonder: are we helping people build a practice that lasts?
Studying Iyengar Yoga brought my shortcut-loving self right back to life. Hello, props! A block or chair can recreate a pose so you feel the effect without the initial strain. Even Teddy from accounting, who comes to class once a week (except during tax season), can access the benefits.
Props, I realized, are the parboiled pasta of yoga — they save you some “cooking” time but used with intention and clarity they can highlight and expedite your understanding and benefits. Like an apple tag for organs and muscles.
And sometimes, yes, you'll never get to a certain shape without them. That is also what they are developed for : Universal Yolking, no gatekeeping everyone's welcome!
Some things are worth rushing through: dental appointments, math class, teenage tantrums. But yoga asanas? Too much fun to skip, speed, or half-ass.
My teacher once quoted Mary Dunn: “Know that you have time.” She'd say this when students zipped through poses — and it landed deep for me.
Because I am always in a rush. Quick fixes are tempting. Add a trending audio and a good hook, and you've got yourself a viral reel. I get it (hi from my tiny brand new instagram account)
But yoga, like life, rewards patience.
Signed — your very impatient (and always hungry) yoga teacher friend