“Just modify": Is it a Trap?

If you've ever been told to "just modify" in a yoga class — or a fitness class, or a physical therapy session, or really anywhere movement is happening and someone needs to sound helpful — I want to talk to you today.

Because "just modify" is one of those phrases that feels like guidance but often isn't. It sounds responsible. It sounds accommodating. And sometimes it genuinely is. But for a lot of people navigating real spinal conditions, it lands more like a shrug dressed up in wellness language — and following it can quietly make things worse.

It's well-meaning in the same way that offering someone your glasses is well-meaning — the intention is pure. But if it's not the right prescription, you haven't helped their vision. You've just given them a headache with extra steps.

Here's what I actually mean when I talk about working around a pose or movement that isn't right for your body. And here's what I wish more people said out loud.

The Difference Between Modifying and Doing Something Else Entirely

A modification, in the truest sense, means you're doing the same movement with adjusted intensity, range, or load. You bend your knees more. You use a block. You take a smaller range of motion. The shape is essentially the same — just dialed back.

But for certain conditions, the shape itself is the problem. And no amount of “dialing back” changes that.

Take a disc herniation or disc bulge, let’s say at L4-L5 or L5-S1. For someone managing this, a forward fold — whether that's Uttanasana (standing forward fold) or Paschimottanasana (seated forward fold) — is not a pose you scale down. It's a pose you skip. Full spinal flexion loads the disc in exactly the direction you're trying to protect. Bending your knees slightly and touching your shins instead of your toes doesn't change the biomechanics of what's happening at that disc. You haven't modified the risk. You've just made it look like you tried.

I say this as someone who is still in this category. I still avoid all forward folds — and yes, I know that's the question you're quietly asking. My tolerance has increased somewhat over time, but the rule holds. When I'm demonstrating for a student, I'm making every possible adjustment to reduce that load, and the moment the call ends, I'm on the floor — either on my back with knees bent and feet flat, or on my belly over a bolster in a supported Sphinx. I practice what I'm asking you to do. Not because it's easy, but because I know what ignoring it costs.

Or consider spinal stenosis, where the spinal canal is already narrowed and spinal extension compresses it further. For someone with stenosis, a deep backbend — Ustrasana (camel), Urdhva Dhanurasana (wheel), even a strong Bhujangasana (cobra) — isn't something you take halfway. A "modification" that is still a backbend is still a backbend. The mechanism of harm hasn't changed. What changes is how long it takes for you to feel it.

This is why I want to retire the reflexive "just modify" and replace it with something more honest: for some poses, for some bodies, there is no modification. There is only substitution — doing something else entirely. And that is not a lesser choice. It is the right one.

What This Looks Like In Your Body

Here are two side-by-side comparisons — the modification you’ll most commonly be offered in a class, why it doesn’t fully solve the problem for certain conditions, and what the substitution actually is. Each one calls out the movement type and who it’s for — and just as importantly, who should skip it entirely.

Example 1: Standing Forward Fold (Uttanasana)

Movement type: Spinal flexion

The modification you’ll hear in almost every class: bend your knees, reach for your shins instead of your toes, use a block.

Here’s the problem. You’ve reduced the range. You haven’t changed the direction. The spine is still in flexion. The disc is still being loaded anteriorly. For someone with a posterior disc herniation at L4-L5 or L5-S1, “bend your knees more” is not a different movement — it’s the same movement with a shorter lever arm. The risk hasn’t changed. The optics have.

The substitution: a standing hip hinge. Feet hip-width apart, soft bend in the knees, hands sliding down the thighs, spine long from tailbone to crown. You are hinging at the hip joint, not folding at the waist. The spine stays neutral. The hamstrings still get lengthened. The disc is not being loaded in flexion. It looks unremarkable. It is exactly right.

Who should substitute: disc herniation, disc bulge, anyone for whom forward flexion increases symptoms or leg pain.

Who can work with the modification: those with general hamstring tightness and no structural contraindication to flexion.

Example 2: Camel Pose (Ustrasana)

Movement type: Spinal extension

The modification you’ll hear: only go halfway back, keep your hands on your hips, don’t reach for your heels.

Here’s the problem. Camel is a deep spinal extension. A halfway camel is still spinal extension — just less of it. For someone with spinal stenosis, the canal is already narrowed. Extension compresses it further. It doesn’t matter whether you reach your heels or stop at your hips. The direction of the movement is the issue, not the depth of it.

The substitution: a supported chest opener. Sit on your heels or in a chair, clasp your hands behind your lower back, and gently draw your shoulder blades together and down while lifting your sternum. You get the front-body opening — the chest, the hip flexors, the sense of spaciousness across the front of the body — without taking the spine into extension. It doesn’t look like camel. It doesn’t need to.

Who should substitute: spinal stenosis, spondylolisthesis, anyone for whom extension increases symptoms or narrows the canal further.

Who can work with the modification: those without stenosis or extension-based contraindications who simply need to build toward the full pose gradually.

What Substitution Actually Looks Like

If you're newer to yoga — or new to movement work in general — I want to speak to you directly here, because "find a substitute pose" can sound completely overwhelming when you don't yet have a mental library of poses to pull from. You're already navigating a body that feels unpredictable and maybe a little scary. The last thing you need is to feel like you're failing a pop quiz on Sanskrit terms while everyone else flows through their vinyasa.

So let's set the yoga vocabulary aside for a moment. You don't need it for this.

The principle I want you to hold onto is simple:

Find something in the same position as the pose you're skipping. Same orientation, different movement.

If the pose everyone else is doing is standing — a standing forward fold, a standing twist, a Warrior sequence — and that particular movement isn't safe for you, look for something else you can do while standing. A gentle weight shift. A slow march in place. A standing hip hinge with hands on thighs and a completely neutral spine. If you've worked with a physical therapist, this is the moment to pull out one of the exercises they gave you that you can do upright. Your PT exercises are not "lesser than" yoga. For your specific body, right now, they may be far more valuable.

If the pose is on the floor on your back — a bridge, a supine twist, a reclined bound angle — and it's not right for you, stay on your back and find something else that works there. A gentle pelvic tilt. A knees-to-chest hold. A figure-four position. A simple, supported rest with a rolled blanket or bolster slid under your knees. Again: if your PT gave you supine exercises, this is their moment.

If the pose is on hands and knees, stay on hands and knees and find a neutral, comfortable position — or place your hands atop 2 blocks if that's steadier. If the pose is seated, stay seated on top of a bolster or a block and breathe with intention while everyone else moves through something you're wisely sitting out.

The goal isn't to look like you're doing yoga. The goal is to keep your body in the same general neighborhood as the class — standing when it's a standing moment, grounded when it's a floor moment — without asking it to do something it shouldn't. You stay in the flow of the room. You stay in your own lane. Both things are true at once.

For Those Who Are Brand New to All of This

If you've never been to a yoga class and you're reading this because you're curious but also a little terrified — first of all, hi. I'm glad you're here.

Here's what I want you to know: you do not need to know a single pose name to practice safely. You don't need to know what Uttanasana is. You don't need to know the difference between a vinyasa and a yin class (but more of that coming in an upcoming blog). What you need to know is your own body — specifically, what positions or movements cause you pain, what your medical team has told you to avoid, and roughly what it feels like when something is wrong versus when something is just unfamiliar and challenging.

That last distinction matters a lot. Unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable is often fine, and even useful. Pain — especially sharp, radiating, or joint pain — is your body asking you to stop. Full stop.

If you have a stack of physical therapy exercises you've been given and largely haven't done (you're in good company, by the way), consider those your personal movement library. They were designed for your specific anatomy, your specific diagnosis, your specific stage of healing. A yoga class is a general offering for a general audience. Your PT exercises are a prescription written for you. They are not the same thing.

When in doubt, do your PT exercises and call it a practice. Because it is one.

The Part That's Actually Empowering

I know this post has a lot of "don't do this" energy, and I want to end somewhere more useful than that.

Learning to substitute — to consciously choose something else, something that actually serves you — is one of the most sophisticated things you can do in a movement practice. It requires body awareness. It requires self-knowledge. It requires the willingness to opt out of the collective experience in the room and trust what you know about yourself instead.

That's not beginner behavior. That's actually quite advanced. It just doesn't look impressive from the outside, which is exactly why so few people do it.

The person lying quietly in a supported position while everyone else attempts wheel pose — because they know that wheel pose has no business being in their body right now — is practicing yoga more honestly than the person white-knuckling their way through a contraindicated backbend because they don't want to stand out.

You are allowed to do something else. You are allowed to do nothing. You are allowed to be in the room in a way that is entirely your own.

That's not the modification. That's the practice.