Yoga, Tai Chi or Qi Gong?
- Maja / Sattwananda
- Jun 14
- 5 min read

Why Do People Say My Yoga Classes Feel a Bit Like Tai Chi?
Over the years, people have commented: “Your yoga classes feel a bit like Tai Chi.” Others compared my classes to Qi Gong. These comments made me smile — and think. I’ve never formally studied either. Yet there is clearly something in the quality of the experience that people recognise.
The comments prompted me to reflect on the way I teach yoga. They point to something that has become increasingly important in my own practice and teaching: the relationship between energy, movement, breath, awareness and the physical body.
For much of my life I have been fascinated by the subtle dimensions of human experience. Along the way I had a number of experiences that pointed to dimensions of life that seemed difficult to explain through a purely physical lens. They sparked a lifelong curiosity that continues to this day.
Rather than leading me towards certainty, they left me with questions.
Over time, I became less interested in theories and explanations and more interested in direct experience: what can be felt, observed and explored for ourselves. Not extraordinary experiences, but ordinary ones experienced more fully. Yoga became one doorway into that exploration, but not the only one. What Happens Beneath the Surface?
For many years, I simply described my classes as “gentle yoga”. While that is true in some respects, it no longer feels like the whole story.
When people think of yoga, they often equate it first and foremost with flexibility, alongside learning postures, stretching, strength and fitness. While these elements may be present, they are not the primary focus of my classes.
What interests me most is what happens beneath the surface.
Perhaps this is why the comparisons with Qi Gong and Tai Chi resonate. Both traditions seem to place value not only on how we move, but on how we experience ourselves while moving.
Rather than asking the body to achieve a particular posture or shape, I invite students to become curious about their experience from within.
What happens when we slow down?
What changes when we listen rather than force?
What becomes possible when movement is guided by awareness rather than habit?
What interests me most is not the shape of a posture, but the quality of the experience.
Beneath the surface of movement lies sensation.
Beneath sensation lies energy.
Beneath the constant activity of the mind lies a quieter awareness.
And beneath our habitual ways of moving, thinking and responding lies the possibility of experiencing ourselves in a different way.
This, to me, is where yoga becomes truly interesting. Not as a system of postures, but as an exploration of direct experience and a deepening relationship with ourselves. Slowing Down
In my own practice and teaching, movement tends to flow more continuously rather than being held in fixed positions. My attention is drawn to the subtle experience of energy, flow and vitality within the body, and I invite students to explore these qualities for themselves.
There is also something deeply beautiful about moving in this way. Not because the movements look impressive from the outside, but because they invite a sense of ease, continuity and harmony from within. As movement slows and the breath softens, the mind often does the same.
Many of us spend our days rushing from one thing to the next, carrying a constant stream of thoughts, plans and distractions, all accompanied by a prevailing sense of urgency. Much of this is simply the nervous system doing what it has learned to do in a busy and demanding world.
By moving slowly and deliberately, and by bringing awareness to the movement itself, we create the conditions for the mind to settle and become more spacious. I am left feeling more grounded, more centred and more at ease. I experience it as a homecoming — me coming home to myself. Again and again, students describe something similar. To me, that is one of the great gifts of practice.
Energy Awareness
This kind of reset acts as a reminder not only of what is possible, but of who we are beneath the noise, the busyness and the endless doing. Beneath it all lies a deeper stillness and presence, and it is this quality that the practice invites us to reconnect with.
For me, energy awareness isn’t about unusual experiences or esoteric concepts. It influences how we feel, how we respond to stress, how connected we feel to ourselves and others, and how fully we inhabit our lives.
In many ways, it is simply another way of paying attention. The more aware we become of what is happening within us, the more choice we have in how we respond, and the more fully we are able to participate in our own lives. The same qualities that support a deeper relationship with ourselves also have the potential to enrich our relationships with others.
The Influences Behind My Teaching
Over the years, my teaching has been influenced by several different streams that have gradually woven themselves together.
The first is yoga itself: breath awareness, postures, meditation, relaxation, energetic anatomy and the rich wisdom of the yogic tradition.
The second is somatic and embodiment-based practice. This has taught me to value listening over striving, sensing over performing and trusting the body’s innate intelligence.
The third is my exploration of subtle energy through the work of teachers such as Prune Harris, Lauren Walker and Donna Eden. Their work has deepened my understanding of the relationship between energy, mind, emotion, physiology and wellbeing, and the ways in which awareness, breath, touch and movement can influence our experience.
Looking back, I can also recognise the influence of several wonderful yoga teachers who have shaped my life and teaching in profound ways. I especially remember Madhuri. I loved the creativity and flow she brought to her classes, the sense of ease and gentle continuity in the movement. There was a real beauty in the experience she created. Only much later did I begin to recognise qualities that I now associate with Qi Gong, long before I had language for them. Gentle Embodied Yoga
Perhaps this combination is what people are sensing when they compare my classes with Qi Gong or Tai Chi. Not because the movements themselves are the same, but because there is a similar emphasis on fluidity, presence, internal awareness and the experience of energy.
If I were to describe my approach today, I might call it:
Gentle embodied yoga infused with energy awareness.
A practice that explores the relationship between energy, movement, breath, awareness and the physical body.
A practice that values presence over performance.
A practice that invites us to move from within.
In a world that often encourages us to push harder, move faster and do more, these classes offer an opportunity to pause, listen and reconnect with ourselves.
Perhaps this is what people are sensing when they compare the experience to Qi Gong or Tai Chi. Not because the practices are the same, but because they share a similar invitation: to slow down, become present and experience ourselves more fully.
To move with awareness.
To breathe with ease.
To feel what is happening beneath the surface.
To reconnect with the deeper stillness and presence that is always there.
For me, this is the essence of the practice:
Gentle embodied yoga infused with energy awareness.

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