Same Same but Different - How Familiar Movements Still Teach Us Something New

There’s a particular ease that comes with familiar movement - shapes your body already recognises, transitions that don’t require thinking, sequences that feel like coming home rather than starting again.

In Pilates and Yoga, repetition is sometimes misunderstood as lack of variety but this idea of returning to the same movements again and again isn’t new. In Classical Pilates, the original mat work follows a set sequence, practised in the same order each and every time, starting infamously with the 100. Likewise, Ashtanga Yoga is built around a pre-determined series of shapes, repeated practice after practice until you progress to a new series.

The intention behind this isn’t rigidity or perfection — it’s depth - and for many people, familiar sequences create a sense of safety. When the body knows what’s coming next, the nervous system can soften and we relax. There’s less anticipation, less bracing, and more room to settle into the experience itself. The movements become a steady container, allowing subtle changes in strength, mobility, energy, and awareness to reveal themselves over time.

And perhaps most importantly, repeating a sequence doesn’t mean repeating the same experience.

Here are few ideas on how you can keep your usual, well known and practised routine fresh:

The Same Movements, a Different Focus

• Choose a particular part of the body — noticing how your feet meet the floor, how your pelvis responds to movement, or how your shoulders organise themselves as you move your arms.

  
  

• Settle into the breath — how it initiates movement, where it feels expansive, or where it quietly resists.

  
  

• You might explore the sensation of movement beginning from a specific joint, allowing the rest of the body to follow rather than lead.

  
  

• Notice contrasts - after moving the right side of the body, how does the left feel? Is there a sense of difference, or does it quietly adjust in response? These moments of comparison often deepen awareness far more than adding new exercises ever could.

Playing With Time, Effort and Sensation

• Timing - hold each shape a little longer than usual, allowing sensation to unfold gradually rather than rushing through.

  
  

• Move more slowly overall, noticing where the impulse to hurry appears and what happens when you don’t follow it.

  
  

• Practising with as little effort as possible reveals something new. Reducing unnecessary tension, softening the face, the jaw, the hands — and observing how the body still supports itself. Often, this kind of practice feels surprisingly strong, simply because it’s more honest.

Changing the Environment

Freshness doesn’t always come from new movements — sometimes it comes from changing the setting.

• Practising at a different time of day can shift how the body responds.

  
  

• Turning your mat in a different direction, moving into another room, or adjusting the light can subtly alter your awareness.

  
  

• You might try closing your eyes for part of the practice, letting sensation guide you rather than visual cues. Or you may keep them open, but soften your gaze.

  
  

• Even practising on a different surface can offer new information — placing a second mat underneath you, for example, can change your relationship with balance, grounding, and connection to the floor.

These small changes invite curiosity without asking you to abandon what already works.

Repetition as a Form of Listening

Over time, familiar sequences become less about memorising movement and more about listening. They help reveal patterns — where you tend to grip, where you rush, where ease naturally appears. This is where depth grows, not through novelty, but through attention.

There’s something reassuring in knowing you don’t need to constantly change your practice for it to remain meaningful. Sometimes, returning to the same shapes — with a slightly different focus, intention, or setting — is what allows the body and mind to truly settle.

You can step onto the mat, move through movements you know well, and still meet yourself anew each time. Not because the practice has changed — but because you have.