Yoga classes featuring animals are pretty old news. You're probably already familiar with people doing downward dog alongside actual dogs, or letting a goat scamper across their tabletop pose. In Alaska, they've even done yoga with reindeer. It seems we may have reached peak animal yoga.
But here's one more entry: in Portland, Oregon, one yoga class goes beyond the usual furry, adorable yoga classmates, and teaches yoga with... snakes. Yup, snakes.
A reptile shop becomes... a reptile yoga studio
Snake yoga is held at HISSS, a reptile-centered pet store that opened last year. Dru Morales, the owner, started the shop to provide all things reptile.
" We offer beak trimming services for turtles and tortoises, nail clippings, spa packages," says Morales. "Shedding assistance, a turtle and tortoise shell wax service…" The list goes on.
And a few months ago, he wondered: what about snake yoga?
Morales cleared out space in the shop's large, light-filled front room, and reached out to yoga teacher Katy Vanek (who did not have any snake experience, but was game to try).
The staff at HISSS signed on to handle the snakes during class and came up with protocols to keep the animals safe (evaluations and cleanings both before and after handling, plus monitoring the animals for signs of stress).
And the classes took off. HISSS says they tend to be about 80% snake fans, 20% people coming as exposure therapy (or grudgingly/fearfully attending with an enthusiastic family member).
"It's not snake yoga without our cobra pose"
At a recent snake yoga class, a variety of pythons (and one baby boa constrictor named Mango) come out over the course of the hour. They range in size from a foot long – to a whopping seven feet.
The reptile handlers drape the snakes over students' shoulders or bellies, but snakes also start winding their own way around the room and climbing up people's bodies (apparently some snakes' tree-climbing instincts are applicable to scaling humans as well).
Student Tara Entrieri has all seven feet of Gemma, a carpet python, wound around her shoulders, and loves it. "If she's missing, she came home with me," mock-confesses Entrieri (who, we will note, left the snake at the shop).
As the class progresses and people generate body heat, the cold-blooded friends take advantage of it, snuggling closer. And some non-snake reptiles are introduced: a Tegu lizard the size of a small dog; a weirdly fast little gecko; and a very slow tortoise named Pebbles. Over the course of a standard snake yoga class, 2-3 handlers bring out about fifteen reptiles.
Student Christina Chang says that being mindful of the snakes slithering around keeps her grounded in the practice. "You have to really stay present," she laughs. But the snakes also cause amusing distractions, as when python Fizzy periscopes up to get a better view of the class, and the class stops to observe him.
Yoga teacher Katy Vanek integrates the animals into the flow of the class. Of course, there's the classic cobra pose (a must in snake yoga). But Vanek also has people round their back into turtle pose, using humming breaths to connect with vibration-sensing creatures, and using the outstretched arms of some poses to greet new snake visitors.
She also has to keep reminding people to check their mats before reaching down or stepping backwards in case a snake has moved into their way while they're not looking. "When you're ready, turn mindfully, moving those hands and knees," she says. "You never know who's gonna be right by your side."
While perhaps not as cute as puppies, snakes have their own appeal
For many people, the idea of a snake winding its way across their belly in the middle of a relaxing yoga pose is the stuff of literal nightmares. While the class was very pro-reptile, those with no snake experience had some caution. HISSS places little consent tokens on the edge of each mat, so visitors can indicate "Yes" or "No" to snake visits at any point during the class. But as the hour goes on, even the most hesitant members of the class are won over.
Multiple people compared the snakes to weighted blankets, providing a firm, calming pressure.
"It's not just like a static weight. There's this expansion and contraction, and gripping and release," says Vanek. "That firm constriction almost feels like a yoga adjustment or a gentle massage."
This gripping and release can call attention to the body in new ways. And also the snakes are surprisingly beautiful, as they slide across the room (the young spotted python had a particularly striking iridescence in the morning light).
While they're admittedly not as fluffy as kittens, an animal Vanek has also taught with, she argues snakes are in fact a better fit for a yoga practice.
" Kitten yoga is chaotic. They're pretty frantic," Vanek laughs. "They're running around, and they're doing things. The snakes are so mindful. And they're so slow moving, and they're kind of calm."
Yes, puppies and goats are arguably cuter. But if you want inspiration on fluid movement, flexibility, and serving as a source of awe (and fear), a growing contingent in Portland want you to consider doing yoga with snakes.
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