Where Did the Joy Go?

Reclaiming Fun, Humor, and Lightness in Pilates

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I came into the Pilates world as a deeply obedient student.

I was dedicated. Diligent. Faithful to the form.
I studied with reverence—treating every word my mentors spoke as sacred truth. I followed the lineages, the line-ups, the line-by-line execution of the work.
I believed that mastery meant obedience. That discipline was the doorway to wisdom.

And then—came contradiction.

Different teachers. Different trainings. Different “correct” forms. Different sacred laws.

At first, it confused me.
Then, it cracked something open.

I realized:
There isn’t just one right way.
There are many.
There are many bodies. Many needs. Many stories.

And maybe the most important story—the one Joseph and Clara held in their hearts when they developed this method—was a simple one:

“Everyone should be doing these exercises… because they would be happier. And the world would be a happier place.”
—Joseph Pilates

So, here’s the question I’ve been sitting with lately:
Where did the happiness go?

How did a method that was born to uplift the human spirit become so serious?
So stiff?
So perfectionist?

How did Contrology—once about freedom through movement—turn into controlling every outcome, every breath, every limb… until the joy slowly drained from the work?

Yes—Pilates is genius.
Yes—Pilates is intelligent.
Yes—Pilates is precise.

But Pilates is also human.

And humans—we’re wired for joy.

We learn better when we laugh.
We breathe better when we relax.
We move better when we feel safe.
And fun? Fun creates that safety.

The Science of Fun (Yes, It’s Real)

You don’t have to take my word for it—let’s talk nervous system for a moment.

When we laugh, smile, or feel playful and at ease:

• The parasympathetic nervous system (our “rest and restore” mode) kicks in.
  
  
• Cortisol, the stress hormone, drops.
  
  
• Oxygen flow improves and capillaries open in the heart and lungs.
  
  
• The breath deepens. Digestion improves. Focus sharpens.
  
  
• The body becomes more receptive to learning and connection.
  
  

So ironically, all the pressure to “get it right”—the over-correcting, over-cueing, and tension we sometimes bring to our teaching—might be working against the conditions that actually allow transformation to happen.

It Took Me 20 Years…

Twenty years of teaching before I gave myself permission to loosen up.
To bring my full humanity into the room.
To teach not just with structure, but with soul.

And no, that doesn’t mean diluting the work or abandoning standards.
It means meeting people—my clients and myself—where they really are.
It means letting my joy in.

I started bringing humor into the studio.
Not as a gimmick or distraction, but as medicine—a way to help people feel safe, grounded, and seen.

Because joy isn’t something we add on top of good teaching.
It is good teaching.

When we bring that presence, that lightness, into our work—something beautiful happens.

From Technique to Trust

When joy is in the room, something shifts.

We become more intuitive.
We stop trying to “perform” and start co-creating with our clients.
We move from being the expert to being a curious, present partner.

That’s when we start reading the room better—the breath patterns, the tension, the emotional states our clients don’t always say out loud.

And when the body feels safe, it opens.
And when it opens, the work works.

So I Challenge You…

When was the last time you laughed in a session?
When was the last time you had fun teaching the method?
When was the last time your client left not just aligned—but smiling from the inside out?

If you already bring joy into your work—keep going.
You are restoring something ancient, necessary, and real.

If not… maybe it’s time.
To let a little more light in.
To loosen the grip.
To invite in not just discipline—but delight.

A little less rigidity.
A little more humanity.
A little more you.

Because as Guru Singh says:

“When we let go of needing to be right, we find our rhythm. And in that rhythm, we find our joy.”

Let’s Get Serious About Joy

Let’s remember what this method was meant to do.
Let’s reclaim fun—not as a distraction from the work, but as a powerful part of it.

Let’s return to the original intent of Pilates:
A better, brighter world—one joyful body at a time.

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