Yoga, Connection, and Autism: A Teacher’s Reflection
- Shubha Yale
- Aug 24
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 24
On International Yoga Day, I had the privilege of assisting a workshop for autistic children at our shala. The workshop was organised by our partner organisation MitraForLife and it was slated to be a partner yoga workshop with parent-child teams. Fun, right? Unnerving for me.
Working with children is no easy task, and to work with children with unique challenges was overwhelming.
How would we go through one hour? Would they understand my instructions? How sad would it be for a child who felt left behind who would not be able to do the things we ask of them? How was I supposed to talk to them - what was appropriate? How could I be kind without being patronising? How much could I push them as a teacher? What were the parents' expectations from the session? Also , would any of my actions towards the child offend the parent?
I was quite happy that I was only assisting Medha in this workshop. Despite these conundrums, I went to the shala with an open mind. My mantra was to go with the flow.
Oh Boy! Was I in for a big surprise! The workshop was not only fun, it was engaging and eye opening. It broke down and reconstructed a few of my beliefs as well. I went back home with a full heart, a lump in my throat and plenty of gratitude.


The workshop was designed to give the parent-child teams an opportunity to learn about each other’s strengths without the lens of disability and explore ways to support each other. Medha started the class with a small talk on body. Movement has always been an integral part of the human experience, our bodies have been designed to move in all directions. Movement helps the body carry on functioning surpassing age and ailment. It also facilitates mental evolution. In fact, for many nerve and brain disorders, movement is the prescribed medicine because it helps ease tension and improves the quality of life, even if it is not completely curative in effect.
Nestled in a circle with the teachers at the center, the practice began easy - helping the students get comfortable with each other’s body and presence - and slowly building up to more challenging postures. Once the workshop started, I saw my anxieties melt away. Medha did not see the children as disabled or even specially challenged, she saw them as children who needed to be taught yoga and who needed to be guided to relax by the end of class. I felt myself following her example and finding ease within myself. She did not expect any less from any child but customised her directions and instructions to make it easier for them to understand. She adapted real time, having conversations and mostly fun with the children - teasing them, pushing them and supporting them if need be. During a particular instance when we were demonstrating the next posture, one of the kids who was unable to maintain eye contact throughout and was slightly rebellious, dashed into the centre of the class off his mat, becoming a point of distraction. Medha smiled at him and invited him to demonstrate the posture with us. He happily stepped back onto his mat not because he was embarrassed but because he felt accepted and attended to. It was so interesting to note that after that instance, he followed everything proactively, even tried new things.
Medha slowly and steadily kept raising the bar without anyone realising it or rejecting it, and in the end, surprising themselves completely for what they had done and what they were feeling. We ended the class with shavasana, blissfully quiet. We could see the parents and children melt on to the floor with the joy of having twisted, turned, pushed and pulled every part of the body. What’s more, none of the children fidgeted or became restless. They looked calm and serene and the breathing that followed was effortless.
Many of the parents told us later that they could not believe how calming the entire session was for their child, and what astonished them even more was that they now felt like they could explore yoga together. It showed them what movement can do to help regulation. What they did not anticipate was their children’s capacity to be able to move so much with coordination and balance.
As for my experience, I was floored. I had not imagined that a workshop with autistic children could be breezy. I was under the impression that these children had it very hard; that they felt stuck inside. I had thought that being kind to them was primary, I hadn’t realised that holding them to “regular” standards could be the kindness that they needed. I sat down for a conversation with Medha after the workshop, and I realised that what we “normal” people think their life could be very far from the truth. They may have challenges but they are, like the rest of us, fighting for the same things - contentment, happiness, expression and self-determination. It was heartening to see the parent and child be so well in-sync with each other, leaning on to the other emotionally and physically. I also realised that it is a lot of work for the parents, but they handled themselves with so much grace and kindness because they had worked out ways to build a lifestyle to manage themselves with therapy, support, regulation and trust.

What I learnt that day was deeper than how to teach autistic children. It was to be open to surprises, to know that your students' limits exist where you draw them as a teacher and to always propagate fun and challenge in classes to evolve. The more fun the teacher has, the more the students learn and feel, taking away an experience that they will cherish. Seeing this principle play out in (what I thought was) the most unlikely circumstance was humbling and has set the tone for the classes I teach going forward.


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