The initial path of my yoga journey revolved around a quest for tranquil inner strength and balance. However, over the years, I began to comprehend that the very nature of my practice space played a significant role—almost as much as the practice itself. Like many yogis, I explored a range of environments—from sprawling studios illuminated by artificial light to personal home spaces devoid of energy. At last, I stumbled upon an entirely new environment that turned my experience upside down: a biophilic yoga studio. Walking into a space that fully embraced biophilic design was the closest I had been to something resembling a natural topographical space since I had moved to the city. I cannot express how much the appearance of this studio fulfilled all my senses.
Making a Biophilic Yoga Studio: More Than Walls of Plants “Biophilic” might bring to mind, for many, walls of potted greenery. Yet plants are only one part of a “biophilic” studio. They are crucial, of course, but a true biophilic yoga studio goes further by crafting an environment reminiscent of nature in all its wonderful variety. If a studio’s not going to look and feel like, well, a studio in nature, then it’s going to miss the mark—it’s not going to be very biophilic. In doing so, I’ve been careful about making changes to my own studio, not wanting them to seem oppressive or overly zealous. When I replaced the synthetic surface, which was kind of gross, with reclaimed wood, I was simply going back to something closer to nature. My point, more broadly, is to take these ideas and feel free to incorporate them into any studio in which you teach or practice.
Illumination: An Element That Changed Everything Lighting is almost equally as important in creating a biophilic environment. I remember visiting a friend’s yoga studio, where an almost clinical bright light illuminated the room in such a way that no part of it was left in shadow. The effect was not a calming one; it was hard to feel at ease when the light was so much like an electric sun. It was hard to know what the right kind of light for yoga was supposed to be if that was the kind of effect light was supposed to have. In contrast to the effect of practicing in the studio with only otherworldly light, natural light filtering through my studio’s tall windows transforms my practice. Most days, the windows are unobstructed, and the light of reality isn’t on any kind of dimmer. Still, it is hard to replicate the kinds of conditions that only exist in the studio, in terms of either day or night work, using just natural light.
Infusing Life into the Studio
Breathwork has always been a core component of my practice as a biophilic yoga teacher. Elusive as “air quality” might be in yoga, it is something that is easy to overlook, especially if you are used to practicing in urban environments where windows, as a rule, remain shut and the air inside is dominated by the unappealing odors of HVAC systems. When I set out to make my indoor practice space feel like a truly “biophilic” environment, facilitating an air quality experience that might potentially rival the outdoors if only in its purifying intention and odors, I wanted my students to breathe easy and imagine their lungs as the gills of a fish, each Filament a space through which they might filter toxins as they swim through the air.
The Essence of Nature I have always thought that a yoga practice should involve all the senses—not just the ones that are most obviously engaged. Indeed, the nose plays a crucial role, as scent has a direct and immediate pathway to the brain. The scents of the studio should transport us to our most primal, natural state, outside in the wilds of the natural world. Not everyone is going to love the same scent; as with most things in life, scent is highly subjective. Some people might not like the things that I use, and that’s okay! The whole point is that we should like and use what works for us. A good yoga practice should help us connect with what is around and inside us as well as with what scents are upstairs in the anatomy of our nasal passages.
One of the most significant changes I made was to add natural soundscapes to my classes. I started out using typical yoga music—tinkling piano keys, soft instrumental melodies—but I found myself distracted by the music. It was too straightforward, too imposed. While I was searching for a better auditory accompaniment, I discovered the delights of playing natural soundscapes in the studio. Hearing the sounds of nature around me, a gentle brook or nearby birds, somehow made me feel more situated in nature myself, more elemental, more like a mammal doing mammal things.
There was one especially heavy class I remember teaching where I played a recording of the ocean waves as we practiced. It was an intricate sequence that really drilled our core muscles, and by the time we got to our last poses, we could barely hold ourselves up. As we slumped into a supine position, the sound of the waves lapping the shore began to wash over us, and my students told me afterward they had been transported to some kind of restful dimension, one that magically combined with a coastal experience to create a perfect post-yoga moment.
Integrating Everything: The Community Experience
It has been so satisfying to witness the powerful effects of biophilia in the studio. I’ve seen students arrive flustered and in the grips of the stresses of their day melt into a smile the moment they’ve taken in the greenery, the studio’s natural light, and the gentle hum of nature in the background. It’s not magic; it’s about using nature to create a powerful cocoon that allows them to effortlessly transition into a state of mind where they’re able to practice more effectively.
Interactions among students in a biophilic yoga studio are distinctly different. They are more intimate and more connected, in the same way that the presence of biophilic design promotes intimacy and connection among the elements of a space. During a recent class, I asked everyone to get into a challenging position that required a great deal of strength. As they shifted into the pose, I reminded them that this was a moment to not only test their limits but also to reach deep down and discover what is possible. “Be supported by your nature buddies,” I said. “Remember, they’re on this journey with you. They’re right here, working through this moment of intensity and pushing past it with you.” Hearing those words, you might think I was just being a good yoga teacher. But there is a lot of good science behind biophilia and biophilic design.
Applied Advice for Crafting a Biophilic Yoga Studio of Your Own
Biophilic design can enhance any yoga practice space, and I would recommend a few fundamental aspects to start. You should obviously have plants, but consider the next layer. Choose plant species that are proven to promote improved air quality and think about the placement of your plants. To what extent can they and will they catch natural light? If they can and will, that’s great. More importantly, if you can and will take care of the plants, then your practice space has a better chance of being a model for biophilic design.
Do not neglect the element of illumination. Ensure that natural light floods your space if you are fortunate enough to have it. If you don’t, use full-spectrum bulbs to simulate natural light as closely as possible. This will definitely give your room a cozier, more welcoming feeling. And, it would be impossible to overstate the value of good lighting.
Finally, think about how to incorporate the textures, scents, and sounds of nature. It’s not hard to do—just a few elements of natural materials like wood, a couple of drops of essential oil, and some soft, natural sound effects can make your room feel more like nature and less like a sterile living space.
Ultimate Conclusions: The Genuine Spirit of Yoga Biophilic Design
A biophilic yoga studio’s loveliness stems from its capabilities to pull us nearer to nature and invite us to discover ourselves. To connect is the essence of yoga—to our breath, to our bodies, and to the surrounding world. This practice makes us pay attention and facilitates all forms of connection, including the most crucial, which is to the current moment. Biophilia serves as both a potent medicine and a bridge to the far more profound “Aha!” moments we sometimes reach either on or off the mat.
Although I have worked in many settings, none have struck such a deep chord with me as those filled with nature. When I practiced yoga in biophilic spaces, I didn’t merely move my body or stretch in the first female-erected studio in the country. I existed within a living, breathing space that invited me to pause and reflect on the illusory but supposedly neat boundaries between the outside and inside worlds. In that act, I found the true spirit of both yoga and biophilic design: an embrace of the natural world, a cultivation of the harmony possible within it, and, far too often, a hope that these found spaces remain undisturbed.
