Yoga Is Meant to Heal: A Call for Accountability and Compassion

As teachers, we rely on the trust of students to share the practice. I have always said that it is the students who make the teacher. When that bond is manipulated or abused—even by one teacher—it brings shame on us all. The actions of Taylor Hunt have poisoned Ashtanga yoga and broken the sacredness of the Mysore practice space. To the students who have been harmed: your pain, your voices, and your courage must remain at the heart of our attention. There is deep damage that must be healed, both in our community and in each of the survivors of his actions. This is no small task, and it will take time, compassion, and accountability.
I first learned of Taylor’s abusive pattern of initiating sexual relationships with students within the past ten days. Prior to that, no one had shared such accounts with me. I had heard whispers of hard adjustments and knew of students who left his community on uncertain terms. Two years ago, I was approached with a story of an affair between Taylor and a colleague, a fellow authorized teacher. Because she was not his student, I mistakenly considered it outside my concern. At the time I did contact Taylor and told him that if there was inappropriate behavior, he should come clean. I left it there. In hindsight, I should have asked deeper questions. I regret not investigating further, and I see now that perhaps I would have understood sooner the scale of harm that is only now being revealed. Hindsight cannot change the present. What matters now is that we acknowledge the harm clearly and without excuses.
Since these stories have come forward, I and others in the community have been taking the following steps:
- Sitting with and listening to the survivors’ stories.
- Amplifying their voices and showing our support.
- Meeting with colleagues to discuss a unified statement that centers the victims while repudiating Taylor’s actions.
- Working with survivors and teachers to establish a path forward that safeguards the lineage, the practice, and, above all, the safety of students.
As a survivor of sexual assault by a yoga teacher myself, I know the pain and betrayal of being failed by the very systems of power that should have offered protection. That makes me regret even more that it took me this long to see clearly. I am listening now. I feel ashamed for not recognizing the situation sooner, and for our community’s failure to support these students.
For students to feel safe going forward, I believe accountability must rest with a neutral and trained third party. Teachers and leaders may form councils, but without independence, training, and safeguards, judgment will always be clouded by personal ties and histories. Students must be able to report harm without fear of retaliation or ostracization. Teachers, too, must feel protected. I know this firsthand: I have had more than one instance of inappropriate or abusive behavior from male students that left me feeling unsafe and violated in my own teaching space. Just as students must be protected from abuse of authority, teachers must also be protected from misconduct.
The legal system often cannot always address these violations because while the law may not technically be broken, trust is. Consent is not freely given when a teacher asks a student for intimacy under the shadow of authority and spiritual service. This is not partnership; it is a misuse of power. Some say a council or code of conduct betrays the spirit of the lineage. If there is a better alternative, I am open to hearing it. But what we have now is failing. Community alone, without systems, places impossible burdens on individuals who have no seat of power. No one person can serve as judge, jury, and conviction. Nor can friendships or reputations excuse or erase harm.
If this is a watershed moment for Ashtanga yoga, then it is also an opportunity: to protect the lineage by protecting its students. Healing will only happen if we work together, not against each other.
Social media can amplify stories, but it cannot formally adjudicate cases. The real work is often more likely to happen in real conversations, in the difficult holding of raw emotion, and in the slow, steady building of systems that provide support. Social pressure campaigns may create urgency, but they rarely sustain the kind of endurance required to bring about lasting change. When the algorithm moves on, the deeper work too often fades. But structural change—the kind that ripples down for generations—is made through the slow, muddy, unglamorous work of community.
It is clear upon speaking with colleagues that few, if any, truly knew of the sexual misconduct between Taylor Hunt and his students. Some teachers have said that they did in fact know and that they raised concerns over the years, but without a clear system of accountability, those warnings went unheard or unacted upon. I wonder who it was that ignored or minimized them? Was it brought to SharathJi and he failed to act? I would hate to believe that. My teacher was quick to act when instances of sexual misconduct were brought to his attention. Was there an attempt to mobilize the collective of teachers that faltered? If so, I wasn’t included in any those efforts. In the months following SharathJi’s passing, some individuals brought lists of demands to his grieving widow asking for immediate action on all sorts of matters, one of which included these issues surfacing now around Taylor. I believe that asking Shruthi to shoulder those burdens at such a time was deeply unfair. Whether the information was minimized, ignored, or simply had no pathway for follow-up, the result is the same: the system failed. I share this to not fault anyone, but instead to highlight why independent and transparent processes are essential. Without them, rumors and gossip risk becoming substitutes for justice, deepening divisions instead of preventing harm.
These recent events leave us all vulnerable and hurt. And yet I continue to believe in conversation and dialogue, however uncomfortable, as the way forward. My hope remains naive but perhaps also deeply human, that is, that we can speak honestly and sincerely, without defenses, hold each other accountable, and still find courage to forgive and redeem.
And still, let us not forget that this is not only about policies and process, or even really about us. It is about students who trusted a teacher and were harmed. Taylor Hunt’s repeated initiation of sexual relationships with students was an egregious violation of trust, of the sanctity of the Mysore room, and of all that we hold dear as yoga practitioners. His harmful behavior and hurtful actions inflicted pain and left scars that survivors must carry in their practice and their lives.
To those students: we see you, we hear you, and we stand with you. You did not deserve this harm. Your voices, your truth, and your courage will guide us in the work ahead.
Accountability does not erase compassion. This is about responsibility, repair, and renewal for everyone involved—the survivors, our practice and lineage, and even Taylor himself. Yoga is meant to heal and all who step on the mat are worthy of that healing. Facing the truth with honesty, humility, and courage is part of the practice. As a community, not as individuals working alone, we now have the chance to come together in care, responsibility, and truth.
Survivors’ stories are shared below. If you have shared a story and would like to included here, please send me a message.
A Personal Experience with Taylor Hunt Shared on Reddit