There’s a bit of debate about music in yoga classes. Some love it, some hate it, but let’s face it, the most popular classes seem to be the ones with the loudest, most raucous playlist. When I practice, I practice in silence. When my teacher is out of town and I’m feeling like going to a class over a home practice, I gravitate towards teachers who do not play music in their classes. That’s not to say that I can’t or won’t go to a class that has music, but I prefer silence. My mind is perfectly capable of wandering or going on autopilot all on its own without having a song to sing along to, a chord progression to analyze, some artist’s message to contemplate, or to simply get lost in a song or melody so that I’m not paying attention to what I’m actually doing. The world offers enough of a symphony of sounds around me to challenge my dharana (concentration) for a lifetime. I come to my mat to go into myself, not to escape from being with myself.

Yoga is a practice of subtlety, and it takes immense focus to be able to listen to your body and to your breath. If there is music playing, it doesn’t need to be very loud before you can no longer hear your breath. If your breath is also supposed to be what you’re moving in time with, it doesn’t help to have a beat playing either. Most of us don’t come to this practice so skilled in ekagrata (one-pointed focus) that we can really handle extra noise on top of all the other noise in our world and in our heads. Yoga helps us develop that skill. Some would argue that practicing amidst noise helps us develop it more because it forces us to tune out the chaos around us, further developing our pratyahara (withdrawal of the senses). There’s some validity to that, but I think it takes a very advanced yogi to do it skillfully, and the vast majority of us do not fit into that category, myself included.

I think of the yoga classroom much like a traditional classroom. Your math or english professor doesn’t turn on music and then proceed to give their lecture over the music, do they? In the yoga room, your subject matter is your body, your mind, and your spirit. I want to be able to observe all of these things and how they work together. What is happening in my body? How am I responding to it emotionally? Can I feel the muscles that I’m using? Can I keep them engaged or do they only light up for only one or two seconds at a time? Can I NOT feel the muscles that I need to use? Where are the dull/blind spots in my body that I cannot feel? This is a LOT of information to process, and if I’m humming along to some song or other I’m going to miss out!

As a teacher I also prefer to teach without music. There’s a lot to pay attention to in the classroom! You are giving verbal instructions, sometimes demonstrating, constantly scanning the room to make sure that everyone is doing each asana safely, and adjusting people as needed. If I’m busy on my phone pulling up the next song, that takes my attention away from all of that. Not to mention, having to speak over music is going to wear on my voice over time, and I’m not interested in doing that either.

Now, I don’t want you to think that I hate music. I most certainly do not. As a matter of fact, I’m a musician. I love music. I even have a degree in it. It moves me to the very core of my soul. This is one reason those who love to practice to music cite for why they love it so much. We are all different, and different things work for each of us to connect us to ourselves. There are definite benefits on a vibrational and molecular level to practicing amidst consonant sounds. However, I think there are certain times and places, like sound baths, that are better suited to that kind of thing than during an asana practice.

The last time my teacher went out of town my friend Chanahira was subbing for him, and I always jump at the opportunity to take her class. She said something that really struck a chord (pun intended) with me. She said “Observe your relationship with silence.” When external distractions are minimized you have no choice but to face yourself. You have to look at what comes up. Does silence make you uncomfortable? Does it make you feel like your skin is crawling? Or does it make you feel bored, anxious, or agitated? Can you not focus? Do you feel like you need something, anything, to distract you from the physical discomfort of what it is that you’re doing on the mat until it’s time for savasana? All of this is what you need to take note of. This is the work in yoga. If you’re intentionally distracting yourself then you’re missing the point.