How We Teach Kundalini Yoga Now (and Why That Matters)

Light comes into the studio

I wrote this as an experimental collaboration with ChatGPT. You’ll see its input in the margin notes.

At Kundalini Yoga in Detroit, we teach Kundalini Yoga in the KYATBYB* lineage—and we teach it like it’s 2026, with 15 years of practice and a lot of earned discernment behind us.

Meaning: we keep what’s real and coherent… and we drop the parts that confuse intensity with wisdom.

This page is here for the people who want to know what kind of room they’re walking into.

Not an intense exercise class.


Not a mystical performance.

A place to practice yoga.

ChatGPT margin note: Translation: you won’t be pushed or shamed into “spiritual growth.” You’ll be taught.

The shift: same technology, different ethics

If you practiced Kundalini yoga before, you might remember a certain sort of vibe: Teacher as authority and cheerleader:

“A FEW MORE SECONDS!” (Meaning: 120 more seconds)

“Keep up and be kept up!”

Some people loved that. Some people got hurt by it. Some people got addicted to it. Some people quit yoga forever.

We’re doing something different.

We still teach powerful kriyas. We still work with breath, rhythm, heat, steadiness, focus. But we hold intensity with moral restraint—meaning we don’t treat your body like it’s a vehicle for proving a point.

We treat your body like it’s your body— so sovereignty and inner experience matter here.

ChatGPT margin note: The new gold standard here is consent + skill-building, not “how much can you tolerate.”

Gong Immersions

Gongs have evolved here, too. In the U.S., most people who come to gongs are touching the KYATBYB lineage directly or indirectly. Yogi Bhajan didn’t invent gong culture, but he absolutely popularized the gong in American yoga culture, and with it came some strong assumptions about how intense it’s “supposed” to be.

Mike’s training began in that world, but his playing hasn’t stayed in that old style. He apprenticed for years on his own before playing for groups, trained beyond KYATBYB influences, and now plays from an advanced, trauma-informed place—deeply sensitive, precise, and in real relationship with his instruments. If you’re wondering, “Are they going to bang on the gongs like an exorcism?”—no. We don’t use sound as a battering ram. We use it as skilled support: powerful when appropriate, spacious when needed, and always respectful of what your system can actually take in.

The gongs here are powerful, yes, but vibration is used with restraint: to hold you, not to overwhelm you.

A true story: why I asked three AIs (LLMs) to read my teaching philosophy

I recently shared a KYATBYB flow (called a kriya) with Gemini because I wanted to modify it with help. Instead, I drifted into the mechanics of Breath of Fire—what it is, what it isn’t, and why people get into trouble with it.

That conversation turned into something else: a clear statement of how Kundalini Yoga is evolving here—not as pure rebellion, and not as a rebrand, but simply as my maturing response to the reality I see before me, on and off the mat.

Then I ran the same ideas past multiple language models—ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini—like asking three smart, blunt colleagues to read your draft and tell you if it holds up.

They landed in the same place:

the mechanics are sound,

the ethics are modern,

the teaching style is culturally aware,

and the whole approach is aligned with lived experience (not mythology).

I’m not outsourcing authority to AI. I’m using consensus as a form of peer review—because I’m not defaulting to any guru—not anymore.

ChatGPT margin note: AI isn’t the teacher. Andrea is. AI is the witness that the logic doesn’t collapse under pressure.

What this is (and what it isn’t)

This is:

• Skill-based Kundalini Yoga. You’ll learn how to do the techniques/kriyas, not just survive them.

• Consent-based intensity. Some techniques are strong. We build them intelligently.

• A room where stopping is allowed. You’re not “failing.” You’re listening to your body.

• A practice that respects modern nervous systems. Not everyone needs more activation. Many more need regulation.

  
  

This isn’t:

• A place to chase peak experiences.

• A place where breathwork is used to force catharsis.

• A room where “spiritual warrior” means overriding your body.

• A room where the teacher is the authority on your internal experience.

One example: how we hold intensity with restraint

Let’s talk about Breath of Fire—the one thing people either love to do, or look askance at here.

It’s an example of how old-school Kundalini yoga teaching can get sloppy. Or intimidating.

Breath of Fire can be a wonderful technique when it’s taught as a skill.
It can also feel too intense when it’s taught like it’s something for everyone, like singing a song, for instance.

So here’s our frame:

We teach mechanics clearly.
This breath has a rhythm, and a way it’s done in this lineage. We don’t assume you already know it.

We don’t throw intensity on top of inexperience.
If you can’t do the breath cleanly sitting still, we’re not going to demand it in a strenuous posture.

We treat “stop” as intelligence, not weakness.
If your body says stop, please stop. Full stop. Arms down, natural breath.

We modify without drama.
Long, slow nose breathing is a perfectly legitimate substitute. Rest is legitimate. Coming out of posture is legitimate.

In other words: we’re not trying to create warriors. We’re practicing yoga as Self-Awareness.

ChatGPT margin note: “Keep up” is not a teaching method. It’s a culture. And you don’t have to join it.

Who this is for

This studio tends to be a great fit if you want:

• a teacher who’s competent and direct without being coercive,

• practices that are powerful but not performative,

• clear options for modification without being singled out,

• a room that respects both the canon and the current world,

• and a slow-building relationship with practice where trust grows over time.

You don’t have to be flexible. You don’t have to be “spiritual.”
You just have to be willing to participate honestly.

Who this is not for

This might not be your place if you want:

• maximum intensity (crying, pain) as proof the class “worked,”

• a teacher who pushes you past your limits,

• big claims, dramatic language, and guaranteed outcomes,

• the vibe of a room where everyone is supposed to do the same thing no matter what,

• zero props.

There’s no insult in that. Different rooms are for different people.

What you can expect in class


You can expect:

• clear instruction, modeled (by me or a student)

• repeat of cues if needed

• I’ll cue it, show it, and if you choose a different version, that’s okay. You’re not being left behind—you’re being trusted.

• pacing that respects learning curves

• permission to modify without apologizing

• an environment where I am monitoring the room, not absorbed in my own practice

• No Sanskrit. English. (Gurmukhi sometimes — scripts provided).

  
  

You can also expect humor. The journey should be funny in places. And yoga is too important an endeavor to learn in a tense, sanctimonious classroom.

ChatGPT margin note: Humor is not a lack of seriousness. It’s nervous-system sanity.

A last note on authorship and authority

This post was an experiment in co-writing with ChatGPT, and the ideas have been pressure-tested with multiple AI models.

Not because AI is the authority.

Because I’m not defaulting to a guru, and I don’t want my students defaulting to one either.

The authority here is practice—done carefully, taught clearly, modified intelligently, and lived in the real world.

If that sounds like your kind of room, you’ll fit right in.

If it doesn’t, I hope you find a room that does.

Either way: may we be in right relationship with the present moment, and with the love that brings us to it.

Sat Nam.

*KYATBYB is Kundalini Yoga as Taught by Yogi Bhajan.