Pilates or Yoga?Maybe that’s the wrong question.

I keep being asked the same question at the moment:

“Should I do Pilates or yoga?”

And my first answer is always simple, honest and maybe a little boring.

Both are great.

If you love Pilates, do Pilates. If you love yoga, do yoga. If lifting weights makes you feel strong, do that. If walking outside clears your head, do that. If dancing makes you feel alive, please, for the love of life, do that. I’m not interested in turning yoga into a spiritual superiority contest where we all sit around pretending one practice is holier than another. The body needs many things. It needs strength. It needs mobility. It needs cardiovascular work. It needs load. It needs rest. It needs rhythm. It needs challenge. It needs softness. So yes, Pilates is brilliant. Weight training is brilliant. Gymnastics, dance, functional movement, animal flow, mobility work, all of these practices can be brilliant.

But that does not make them yoga.

And I think this is where the conversation gets more interesting.

Because there is a lot of crossover. Pilates can include breath, control, core work and flexibility. Gymnastics can include shapes that look almost identical to yoga postures. Dance can look fluid, expressive and embodied. Strength training can develop the same muscles we use to hold yoga poses. Modern movement practices can include crawling, twisting, balancing, stretching and deep body awareness.

So on the surface, everything starts to look like everything else.

A plank is a plank. A lunge is a lunge. A bridge is a bridge. A stretch is a stretch. But the surface is misleading.

Because the difference is not always in the shape. The difference is in the intention. In Pilates, broadly speaking, the body is the central focus. The goal might be core strength, spinal control, postural awareness, improved movement, better function, rehabilitation or performance. In weight training, the goal might be strength, muscle, resilience, power or bone density. In gymnastics, the goal might be skill, precision, control and physical mastery. In dance, the goal might be expression, artistry and rhythm. In functional movement, the goal might be better movement capacity for life.

These are all good goals. But in yoga, the body is not really the final goal.

The body is the doorway.

That is the bit we have to be brave enough to say again. Yoga postures were never meant to be the whole of yoga. They were never meant to become a performance of flexibility, a lifestyle brand, a competition of who has the deepest backbend, the strongest arm balance, the calmest face or the nicest leggings. Yoga postures are a vehicle. They are a way in, they help us notice ourselves and that is where yoga becomes very different.

Because when you are in a posture, the real practice is not only what your hamstrings are doing. It is not only whether your core is switched on. It is not only whether your knee is tracking well or your spine is long.

The real practice is this:

What happens to you when things get difficult?

Do you look around the room and compare yourself?

Do you feel pressure to perform?

Do you check out when the work gets hard?

Do you push past your limits because you want to prove something?

Do you collapse the moment discomfort appears?

Do you speak to yourself with kindness, or does the voice in your head become harsh and cruel?

Do you get secretly annoyed because you cannot “do” the posture?

Do you need to be good at it to feel safe?

None of these reactions are wrong. That is important. Yoga is not there to make you feel ashamed of being human. It is there to help you become conscious of being human. It shows you your patterns, your urges, your triggers. and your tendencies. Then, with enough practice, it gives you a little space around them.

That space changes everything.

Because you cannot fully direct your life if you do not know yourself. Philosophers, mystics, psychologists and spiritual teachers across traditions have all pointed to the same thing in different languages: self-knowledge matters. Without it, we are mostly being driven by habit, fear, craving, avoidance, old wounds, old stories and unconscious reactions.

Yoga asks us to look. Not with shame. With courage and compassion. And that combination matters.

Courage without compassion becomes aggression. Compassion without courage becomes avoidance. Yoga, when taught and practised with depth, develops both. It asks you to stay awake enough to see yourself clearly, but kind enough not to turn that seeing into another weapon.

Then there is another layer.

A deeper one.

And this is where yoga starts to become more than movement, more than wellness, more than stretching, more than core work, more than a class you squeeze in between work and dinner.

Embedded deep in yoga philosophy is the idea that you are not your thoughts.

That chattering, narrating voice in your head, the one describing everything, assessing everything, judging every moment, replaying conversations, predicting disasters, comparing you to other people, telling you that you should be further ahead by now, that voice is not the whole of you.

Stay with me, because I know this can sound heavy.

Try this.

Close your eyes for a few seconds.

Wait.

Listen.

At some point, a thought will appear. Maybe something profound. Maybe something ridiculous. Maybe, “What am I having for tea?” Maybe, “This is nonsense.” Maybe, “I need to reply to that message.”

Now notice this:

If you can hear the thought, what part of you is listening?

If you can notice the voice, what part of you is aware of it?

That question is at the heart of yoga.

Yoga would say that when you begin to realise you are not only the thought, but also the awareness witnessing the thought, something begins to loosen. The mind still speaks, but it is no longer the unquestioned ruler of your life. Think of it like watching your favourite sport with a commentator talking over the top. The commentator might be clever. They might be experienced. They might be loud. They might make strong claims. They might even be right sometimes. But do you agree with everything they say?

Of course not.

Sometimes they miss what is obvious. Sometimes they are biased. Sometimes they get carried away. Sometimes they turn a simple moment into a huge drama. The mind is like that. Your thoughts are influential. They are often loud. They can be convincing. But they are not always true. They are not always wise. They are not always useful. They are not always you. With practice, you get better at listening without being swallowed. You get better at filtering. You get better at saying, “Thank you mind, I hear you, but I am not going to build my whole life around that thought.” This is not positive thinking. It is not pretending everything is fine. It is not spiritual bypassing. It is not sitting on a cushion while your life falls apart around you.

It is the very practical skill of recognising that the mind produces thoughts, just as the lungs breathe and the heart beats.

Some thoughts are helpful.

Some are protective.

Some are nonsense.

Some are old fear dressed up as wisdom.

Some are inherited voices that were never yours in the first place. Yoga gives you a way to see that. Now, does this happen in every yoga class?

No.

And that is probably one of the great challenges of modern yoga. Modern yoga has worked hard to become more accessible, and in many ways that is a good thing. There is now more focus on body health, strength, flexibility, mobility, core activation, balance and nervous system regulation. I love that. I teach that. I believe in that.

The modern body needs help. We sit too much. We scroll too much. We hold tension for years. We breathe shallow. We live in bodies shaped by stress, screens and speed. So yes, yoga should help your back feel better. It should help your hips move. It should build strength. It should support balance. It should help you breathe better. It should help your nervous system settle. But those things are not the end of yoga.

They are part of the path.

Yoga also includes breath practices, concentration practices, meditation, mantra, self-study, ethics, compassion, discipline and surrender. It includes learning how to be with yourself when you are uncomfortable. It includes learning how to be kind without being weak, strong without being aggressive, disciplined without being cruel, spiritual without becoming pious.

At its deepest, yoga points to a realisation:

You are not who you thought you were.

Ram Dass said it beautifully: “The real work you have to do is in the privacy of your own heart.”

That line gets me every time.

Because the best thing yoga ever gave me is this:

I met myself.

Not the version of myself I was performing.

Not the version I was trying to sell.

Not the religious version from my childhood. Not the rebellious version. Not the addict. Not the teacher. Not the long-haired yoga lad covered in mandala tattoos, trying to dress, speak and act like what I thought a spiritual person was supposed to be.

My life has had a few chapters. A pious childhood. Preaching as a teenager. Addiction. Insomnia. Relationship chaos. Becoming a parent at nineteen. Moments I am proud of and moments I had to grow from. And even when I “became a yoga student,” I still managed to turn that into another identity for a while. I knew how to look the part before I knew how to sit with myself. And that is the bit that changed me. Not touching my toes. Not standing on my hands. Not learning Sanskrit words. Not looking spiritual.

What changed me was learning to sit, listen and not run away from what I found. With compassion. That is yoga to me.

And you do not need to have lived some dramatic life for that to matter. You do not need addiction, trauma, chaos or some huge personal story. You just need to be human. And if you are human, you have a mind that talks, a body that stores tension, a heart that has been hurt, a nervous system that has adapted, and a deeper part of you that is quietly waiting to be heard.

So, yoga versus Pilates?

I honestly think it is the wrong question.

And I take some responsibility here. After more than fifteen years of teaching, I do not think I have always made this clear enough in my own community. I have sometimes answered too quickly. I have said, “Both are great,” which is true, but incomplete.

The deeper answer is this:

Do what helps you feel well.

Do what helps you feel strong.

Do what helps you stay consistent.

Do what you love enough to keep doing.

If that is Pilates, brilliant. If that is weights, brilliant. If that is walking, climbing, dancing, swimming, running, brilliant. I am not precious about people choosing yoga over everything else. I would rather someone find a practice they love than force themselves into a yoga class because they think they should.

But if you are asking what makes yoga different, this is my answer:

Yoga is not simply a movement practice.

Yoga is a self-knowledge practice that uses movement, breath, stillness and awareness as doorways.

And let me be clear, because this matters too.

We do not need to make yoga pious. We do not need to make it heavy. We do not need to tell every student they must go on some deep spiritual quest through the darkest caves of their soul before they are allowed to enjoy a stretch.

That is nonsense.

You do not need to hear angels when you meditate. You do not need to see heaven in savasana. You do not need to chant if chanting makes you feel uncomfortable. You do not need to believe what I believe. You do not need to call yourself spiritual. You just need to show up for the reason you have. If you need to stretch your body, a good teacher will help. If you need to strengthen your core, the right teacher will help.

If you need to breathe better, the right practice will help. If you need to feel less anxious, a skilled teacher can support that. If you need to feel like you belong somewhere, the right class, the right teacher and the right community can welcome you in. And if you stay long enough, and if it is your path, a good teacher will also give you opportunities to go deeper. Not by forcing it. Not by preaching. Not by dressing yoga up as superiority. But by quietly opening doors.

So my honest advice is this:

Get outside and walk, lift weights, stretch your body, build your strength and move in ways that make you feel alive. Do Pilates if you love Pilates.

And do yoga.

Not because yoga is better than everything else. But because yoga offers something distinct. It helps you inhabit your body, steady your breath, observe your mind, soften your heart and, if you stay with it, meet the part of you that was there before all the noise.

That is not exercise.

That is practice.

(look out for details of my new yoga training for students only that is designed to teacher the parts we miss in classes. These will be hosted at my home in small groups (6) so we can do deeper together.)

Thanks for being here,

Love

Stuart