Yoga in a capitalist world: Can we practise without consuming?
Walk into any yoga studio or scroll through a wellness influencer’s feed and you’ll be met with the same shiny promise: inner peace – accessible now in the right leggings, on the right mat, scented by the right candle and for the right price. Yoga, a tradition that emerged from the ancient teachings of renunciation, inner discipline and union, is now a booming multi-billion-dollar industry. How do we reconcile the two? Can we practice yoga without consuming it?
Stillness for sale
At its heart, yoga is a spiritual practice that asks us to quieten the mind and still the craving that feeds suffering. So how is it that yoga, in its popular modern form, often seems to arrive at our doorsteps already co-opted by the very forces of capitalism that yoga practice itself resists? For capitalism is an economic system built on craving, consumption, and never-enoughness.
We’re told we need the right items to begin. The latest mat with recycled materials (with a hefty price tag), the flattering-flowing outfit, the subscription to the right platform, the “life-changing” retreat in Bali.
Of course, the question isn’t that these products are inherently bad or that practitioners who use them are imposters. Many yoga items are created with love and care, and some things really do bring beauty, comfort, or even motivation to our practice. But when lifestyle branding becomes indistinguishable, we have to ask ourselves: is the practice of yoga becoming just another arena of consumption, another aspect of our identity to curate?
Authenticity in a filtered world
One of the great ironies of modern yoga is that it’s often practiced in an effort to become more “authentic”, but this authenticity is sought through increasingly inauthentic means. Filtered images, curated captions, rehearsed vulnerability, and commercial partnerships with other wellness brands are the bread and butter of the online yoga world. There’s pressure not only to practise yoga but to perform it — to look the part, speak the language, and be seen doing so.
This level of performance can make it hard to hear the quieter inner work. The practice asks us to peel away the masks of the ego, not to accessorise them. It asks us to sit with the discomfort of not-knowing, of imperfection, of being simply human. But the yoga world, made by the capitalist forces at play, often provides us comfort instead: a consumable, filtered version of awakening.
It doesn’t mean authenticity is unattainable, but that it’s difficult to find, and lives most purely in those early-morning home practices done in your pyjamas, in teachers who speak simply and without pretension, and in spaces that welcome sharing, rather than selling yoga. It lives in the places where yoga is not a tool for self-improvement, but self-enquiry.
The minimalist yogi
To practice yoga without consuming might be to practice it quietly. It might be to sit on a blanket instead of a mat. To wear the same yoga clothes multiple times. To value inner alignment over outward image. In a culture that thrives on “more”, to need less is a radical act.
The minimalist yogi isn’t necessarily austere. It’s not a hard-and-fast checklist to follow but a series of questions to ask. What do I really need to do this practice? What supports it and what distracts from it? Where am I buying into the illusion that I must earn my worth through appearance or acquisition?
Minimalist yoga practice is not about rejection but about relationship. It’s the difference between lighting a candle because you want to be present, and needing the “perfect” incense to feel like you’re spiritual. It’s choosing depth over decoration, devotion over display.
Towards a conscious yoga
There’s another layer to this conversation: one of cultural awareness and reclamation. The modern wellness industry has largely extracted yoga from its Indian and South Asian context, flattening a rich, ancient philosophy into a fad of perfect bodies. In doing so, it has often removed yoga from its cultural, spiritual and philosophical origins.
Practicing a decolonised yoga means being aware of that, acknowledging the place from which yoga came and the people to whom it first belonged. It means studying the philosophy and giving credit where credit is due, honouring the roots while you find your way.
Making peace with paradox
Can we truly practice yoga without consuming? Maybe not entirely. Most of us, if we’re honest, will buy into at least some form of commerce — we pay teachers, buy books, go to classes. And that’s not inherently wrong. The point isn’t purity, but consciousness.
The key is our relationship to what we do consume. Do we buy things out of aspiration, fear, comparison, or can we engage with yoga from a place of alignment, simplicity, and appreciation?
If you would like to explore more, consider booking private yoga lessons with Emily at Mount Martha Yoga. She offers yoga in Mornington and across the Mornington Peninsula. If you have been looking online for a ‘private yoga teacher near me’, bring that search to the studio and discover a warm welcome waiting, just for you.
