Complexity is a dial, not a destination. You can turn it up. You can turn it down. The practice is knowing why you’re touching it at all.
If you think the harder version means you’re further along, you’ve misidentified what the practice is measuring. Yoga isn’t a scoreboard. It’s a lab. And sometimes the only way to get real information is to stop changing ten variables at once.
That’s why boundaries matter. Put a fence around what you’re observing. Then you can actually see something. Like how crossing an ankle over a knee and sending your hip back shows up at your desk, in “camper,” and in pigeon on the floor. Different shapes. Same family.
Also, life is nonlinear. You can be a fun-loving human and still need to look at your bank account. Fun is fun. Money is money. Mixing them makes you blurry. Same with asana: when everything is “max version,” you lose the thread.
Reducing complexity doesn’t dumb down the practice. It changes the question you’re asking of the body. Sometimes the question is, “Can I load this?” Sometimes it’s, “Can I feel this without making it a drama?”
Honestly, it’s more advanced to pick a simple version and not let it hook your psycho-emotional dynamics. More advanced than pressing into pain just to chase the grandest experience of a pose. Turn the dial. On purpose.