All the world’s a stage, and that stage is called the internet, and we all have our parts to play. I don’t know a yoga teacher who is not streaming their classes.

Not. One.

So, let us take a moment of silence to remember the local yoga studio, and what it meant to all of us on our path of transformation.

Six years ago, almost to the day, Elena Brower shuttered Vira Yoga. It had been something of a talisman for me, for in my style of yoga this was the studio you had to visit. If Elena decided to walk away, then what did that mean for the rest of us?

In the past month, I have received multiple notices of studio closings. Just this week I learned that nine studios in Denver will not survive the pandemic and reopen. Even the largest and most profitable chains and franchises will have to consider which locations come back, and which ones don’t.

People, this is big. Yoga is soul-saving for most of us, but it is also soul-sucking for some of us. An average yoga teacher might hustle to teach up to 17 classes a week. She may not have health insurance. She may not be able to afford a car or to live on her own.

And yet, we soldier on until a worldwide pandemic tsunami wiped out small businesses, taking many yoga entrepreneurs down with it.

I have a mantra that has proven useful many times. It is this: Nothing really changes. We just know more now. There are a million myths about how the truth reveals itself. It seems that it takes its own sweet time until we are ready to hear it.

The truth is, the yoga business has long been teetering on the edge. A studio is the lifeblood of any yoga community. It doesn’t matter if the studio is a corporate franchise or a little itty bitty gathering of teachers meeting in a church basement. It is the nexus for community, serving up transformation, light and love.

But. And there’s often a but.

A studio typically operates on the edge. There are very few multi-million dollar studios. A studio must pay for rooms, rent, insurance, utilities, marketing and administrative help. It must have people to turn on the lights, and turn them off. It must cover its biggest expense – salaries. It often provides wine and cashew-cheese events. The list goes on.

In return, the studio charges between $10 and $40 for a class, but with Groupon, Class Pass and other cannibalizing discounts, only receives perhaps 50% of the fee. The teacher receives much less. Teacher trainings and workshops keep things going, but not always thriving.

With the studios temporarily closed, teachers have scattered and many are all over the internet providing yoga – much of it for free or donation. I cannot sign onto Facebook or Instagram without accidentally jumping into at least five classes. To those teachers, please forgive me.

It turns out that in many cases, teachers are now making more money. Wait. What?

“I don’t know if I can return to teaching for as little as I did before,” is what I often hear these days. “Even when some people don’t pay, I am making much more.”

You can find yoga most any day of the week on the internet stage. You can find a superstar, international traveling Wanderlust yoga-lebrity offering a Zoom class for $20, and your local teacher zooming from his bedroom by donation. Even the word “zooming” did not exist three months ago. It’s so confusing that I have made a spreadsheet with my favorite teachers’ Zoom ID to keep track of their weekly classes.

Where will it all lead? Does it lead back to our studios? Do we take our teaching and our students to the virtual world? Do we compete with studios with our offerings? Do we do a little of both?

I am also inundated with offers to improve my yoga business (which actually needs improving). I field offers to build my website, create a podcast, put my classes online, build a course and digitize my business. When someone offers to write books for me, I’ll take a longer look. To be clear, like a yoga studio, I don’t make enough money to pay for most of these things.

Once upon a time I also left the studio world and offered classes exclusively through my home – which was very successful. Been there and done that. But although my classes were always filled – even during the slower months – they were not brimming with that thing you get from your community in a studio.

There is a certain feeling when you walk into “your” studio. When the walls that witnessed so much love and transformation encircle you, and when you feel your community rise up to greet you. I get that occasionally from Zoom when I am with my yoga-tribe. I don’t get that component from pre-recorded classes.

I will miss it dearly if my studio does not reopen.

Michelle Marchildon is the Yogi Muse. She is the author of four books on yoga, including the Theme Weaver series for yoga teachers. You can find her on the internet, duh, and wherever books are sold.