The Hidden Truth About Headstands
Is our Cervical Spine Designed for us to Stand On Our Heads?
I vaguely recall seeing somewhere that Beatles once said something along the lines of, “We can’t even stand on our feet, how can we stand on our heads?”. Context: when they were deeply immersed in the ancient teachings of yoga and philosophy in India.
It makes me wonder—where did the idea that Sirsasana (Headstand) is a benchmark of one’s “spiritual level” even come from? Is because of its association with the Sahasrara Chakra, the crown chakra, which is said to bridge personal consciousness with universal consciousness?
One of the worst myth we were often told in the world of yoga asana is: practice makes perfect . I used to trust that with enough dedication, I’d get there. When I trained at the Sivananda Ashram, where the sequence requires a headstand in the middle of the practice, I diligently followed along, fit my body into that cookie cutter every day during the entire month and ignored how I felt.
But over time, I started noticing a few things:
Our spine consists of 33 vertebrae, divided into cervical, thoracic, lumbar, and sacral regions.
So, should we really be balancing our entire body weight on one of the most delicate parts of our spine?
In a traditional Sirsasana (Supported Headstand), the weight is supposed to be distributed across a triangular base: the forearms (elbows) and the crown of the head.
But here’s the catch: not everyone has the same skeletal proportions. If you naturally have shorter forearms, your base of support becomes:
Neither scenario is ideal for long-term spinal health.
At the time of writing this, I haven’t done a Sirsasana in two years. Before I stopped, I could balance away from the wall about 50% of the time, but my consistency varied. Some days, I felt more wobbly than others.
But the bigger realization?
That deep serenity and stillness that’s supposed to arise in a headstand never really came for me.
And after taking a break, my neck finally started feeling normal again. And no, my spiritual connection to the divine didn’t suffer in the slightest.
I fully appreciate the spiritual and energetic benefits of inversions, but it’s worth asking:
Because if the Beatles were onto something, maybe we should learn to stand firmly on our feet first—before worrying about standing on our heads.