The Perfect Day

A drive across the back roads headed east.  A bridge across the Delaware.  A town full of the quaintest shops, cafes and nooks one could ever hope to encounter.  A man so excited to show it all to me he doesn't know where to start.

There are brick sidewalks and doll-house row-homes lining the streets.  There are cherry and apple blossoms exploding with color and light.  The plants and trees and grass are such a vibrant green it's almost blinding, a full week of rain having packed them so full of life now bursting forth in breath-taking color.  And amidst it all is a world of scents I have to strain to distinguish.

One scent I know, and my soul loves it so much I dream about it.  It is the one found in pages of old books nestled in over-full shelves of some forgotten shop.  The kind-of place that houses nothing but leather-bound antiques and obscure titles so long out of print only the scholars know of their existence.  I flip through the pages and breathe deep, letting the vaguely musty but-oh-so intoxicating scent penetrate my nostrils, soak into my hair and clothes, envelop me like a hug from a long-lost friend.  The clerk walks by and gives me a knowing smile- he gets this all the time.  Those of us with the love of books find sanctuary in these places, and we never stay away too long.

A walk to the canal reveals a path by the water full of such picturesque vistas my inner photog can't help itself and I start snapping away.  The surface of the water reflects the world and gives the illusion of infinity- a neverending constitutional benefiting the soul rather than the body.  And for a moment- one of many on this day- time stops.  Whatever came before, and whatever will come next vanishes in the presence of so much else.  A breathe, full and enlivening.

A tiny little bar with so much nautical memorabilia it could well-be a museum and a toast made to friends about new beginnings. There is genuine excitement in the air, the kind of heart-felt regard that carries you through the uncertainty and fear into the safety of open arms and smiles.  I will remember this moment.  And yes, maybe it will become part of a story that will end in ways I didn't plan for.  But it will be a great chapter in my life, I know.

Dinner and jokes and stories that flesh out this person, this wonder of a human being I am beginning to submerge myself in.  There are late nights and adventures.  There are "I can't believe you"s and incredulous questions.  There are friendships and milestones and memories from great company, all enjoyed over mouth-watering entrees and the noisy bustle of a good Italian restaurant.  And under the table, the feel of a hand on mine.  One that my fingers are beginning to hunger for when I haven't felt the touch for a while.  It's a secret, a shared glimpse across the table, and I love it so completely it startles me.

And I am aware, as I have been aware for some time, that this is what I've been missing.  During all of those quiet weekends that I defended as being restful, relaxing and easy I was missing this life.  Vibrant, and loud, and wonderfully exhausting.  And being in it- truly sucking the marrow from this moment now- I feel rejuvenated and so, so excited for all that is yet to come.

In the evening, the twilight gives the town an even more magical taste and we wander like tourists in a strange country- marveling at the architecture, the sounds, the signs and windows and roads.  A million inconsequential sightings that endear this place to me in a way that only a new world can.  There's that not-quite-reality sensation on the surface of my skin.  Like the rules of existence don't quite apply for the moment, like truly anything could happen.  I keep breathing, desperate to take it all in, to fully absorb and consume it.  I am aware of the gift, and ever so grateful.

And even if it were the last perfect day, even if there weren't so many more to come, I would still be happy.  Because this day, this beautiful, full day that has filled my soul with so much life I am amazed I can house it all- is perfect.

Sight

We're not supposed to know the future.  I know this.  There are times, even, when I can be at peace with it.  But I don't like it.

I want to know that the choices I'm making today won't come back to bite me in the ass tomorrow.  I want to know that I'm doing the "right thing", whatever the hell that is.  I want to know that I am wiser, stronger, better equipped to handle all the uncertainties because I'm thinking things through and pursuing the best course I can.  That's what I want.

What I need, however, is to trust.  To trust that I'm doing not the right thing but the only thing I'm meant to do.  Even if it's "wrong", even if it's scary, even if it means pain and difficulty and a whole new soul-challenging journey.  I need to trust the universe to take me where I need to go, and I need to trust my soul to forge the path I'm meant to walk.

I'm trying.

The Last Class

Tonight was the last time that my yoga sisters and I met in classroom.  Our next meeting will be a more formal presentation of our final projects which the new teacher trainees will attend and our final gathering will be a graduation ceremony.  I am becoming acutely aware of the fact that this is all ending and it's beyond frightening.

It's funny, I can remember our very first class together- I looked around the circle at a group of strangers I'd never met before and I knew- because of the nature of the program, because of a gut feeling, because I was told that this was how it works- that I would grow to love all of them so fiercely that I wouldn't be able to fathom losing them.  I think I may have even said something of that nature at the time.

And even though I've known for a while that this was ending, even though the dates and times of final meetings were prepared well in advance, and even though I theoretically love and embrace change I'm still devastated.  I don't know how you give yourself so completely to a group of souls and not be when that connection ends.

Well, perhaps "ends" isn't fair.  I've been through endings before- time periods during which intense emotional contact cannot continue simply because of the details of life- and I know it's possible to keep those connections going.  The real ones, they say, never leave you.  But the context changes.  A LOT.  And coordinating schedules, making phone calls, following through on proposed visits is never easy, even though the person you're missing is close by.

And, of course, it's not the same.  My yoga sisters and I did battle with our greatest shadows.  We looked at some hard truths about ourselves that many of us kept so close to the chest for so long it's a miracle we were able to bring it out into the light.  We experienced each other in a way that we have not experienced any other human being on the planet.  And while I am nothing but grateful in the knowledge that that can never be taken away I am still floored by the impending end of it.

But, I'm smart enough to know that's just how change works.

The Persistent

I have moments.  Brilliant, triumphant moments where I am strong and powerful and ever-so capable of mountain-moving.  Moments where my grand dreams are only a small series of steps away.  Moments where I am all of the things I want to be, without question.  And the vision of me in those moments is blinding.

But, I begrudgingly admit, that's the not the norm.  Despite all my soul journeying, all of my fearless kali-burning, all my endless exploration and fearless facing of shadow- I'm still human.  And those repetitious, infectious thoughts still find a way in.  The judgements, criticisms and dismissals find the cracks in my visage and seep in, saturating me with that ever-so-familiar damp dread.

But like I said- I'm human.  It's bound to happen.  So I slough off the mold, towel-dry the dampness, and step out into the cold, clean air... ready to try again.

Between Snoozes

Not quite asleep, not quite awake.  That mystical edge of existence where anything is possible.  For some, like my father, it's the witching hour.  The time when the lines between the living and the dead are blurred.  The time where my grandmother, with all of her wisdom and guidance, could safely float the ship into harbor and settle the storm.  For me, with my not yet awakened sight, it's far more random.

My brain flashes on memories and images like lightening, illuminating them for just a second and then fading.  The moment when we first kissed, sitting on the park picnic table, under the streetlights.  The insight I gained from the masterful way you handled that question, that fear.  The reference to some shared cultural exposure- not exciting or earth-shattering in its own right, but illustrative of these superficial connections which are carved into much deeper crevices in the tapestry of our story.  And my mind switching, switching between them.  Each for only a split second, but so deeply felt.

And in the hours of waking light, after I've been dragged away from the twilight madness into the harsh reality of day, I try to make sense of it all.  There must be logical explanations, surely.  Some neurotransmitter firing the way it does when one is stimulated by lust.  How memories form in the subconscious when rules of format and category don't apply.  Thoughts- meaningless, unimportant and so easily dismissed when studied, dissected and pulled apart under the microscope of sterile self-study.

But beneath that- beneath the stories and explanations and clinical categorizations that file things into orderly classes- there is something deeper.  Something closer to the soul.  Something growing, like a fetus in the great mother's womb.  Something, perhaps, like love.

New Starts

Today is the first day at my new job.  Another new job.  Another new start.  It's the continuation of a theme- everything all at once.  The opposite of one thing at a time.  Birth- violent, messy, life-altering.

And yes, in this context all it really means is a new office, more paperwork and another learning curve as I work out the kinks.  But there's a lot of kinks right now.  Yoga in the park kinks.  Work kinks.  A brand new spanking relationship kinks.  Like I said- it's a theme.  Everything, all at once.

And I' trying to trust.  I'm trying to let go and flow.  I'm trying to allow the universe to happen.  But it is anything but comfortable.

May Day

Today is the first of May: a day usually marked by celebrations of spring, fertility, and growth.  It's been a common theme in my life of late.

I used to think that any change that would be sustainable- that one would be able to permanently integrate into life- had to be small.  Incremental steps in the right direction, tiny victories creating forward momentum, a stable basis to build off of and then add to one layer at a time.  I advised and counseled and even instructed people on the steps that seemed most likely to bring about the permanent change they claimed to want.

But this process of self discovery that I've been in has not been small.  The steps that I've taken have not been tiny victories.  And my stable basis for everything was completely and utterly destroyed in the process of so much birth.  It's nothing short of a revolution and I have no idea when things will settle down.  (Or if, for that matter.)

And yes, it's scary.  More frightening, really, than anything else I've ever done.  And yes, a whole lot of hard-won truths I've held as immutable have been completely tossed aside in favor of a completely different world view.  And yes, my cool, collected exterior and confidence has been rattled to the bone.

And yet, I feel more alive in this space- this scary, uncertain, constantly fluctuating space- than I have at any other time in my life.  Because this feels real.

I have no certain beliefs anymore.  And I recognize that what feels so fundamentally true to me right now could very well change tomorrow.  And I see that any claims I make as to who I am, how I'm defined, and where I fit are temporary.  And yes, I'm scared.  But I am most certainly NOT unhappy.

I'm following the green.  I'm catching the scent of plants pushing through damp soil and letting it lead me forward.  I'm listening to the birdsong in the wind and letting my feet trace the path.  I'm moving, constantly, in whatever direction this crazy journey is taking me and I am trusting that the steps themselves are the way.

It harkens back to one of those lines I've recited a million times over.  "It's not the destination but the journey that matters."  Well, what if there is no destination?  What if the reason the journey matters is because the journey is all there is?  Wouldn't that be revolutionary?

Z is for Zenith

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

Today is my very first class as a yoga teacher.  I am in Valley Forge Park where I've spent so many days running and being mindful and connecting with the universe on a deeper level than I ever thought possible.  I am teaching people yin yoga, a tool for self-transformation that I love and believe in so fervently that I trust my ability to teach others how to use it to transform themselves.  I am nervous and excited in equal measure and I feel like I'm on the cusp of something huge, some next great chapter in my life.  Although really, I recognize that chapter started a while ago.

I didn't plan it this way- I hadn't tried to arrange for this first class to take place on the same day as the conclusion of this month-long narration through some of what I've learned in my year in teacher training.  But i'm not even remotely surprised that that's how it worked out.

Because that seems to happen all the time, now.  All those little moments of serendipity, kismet, deja vu and the like letting me know- constantly- that I am exactly where I need to be, on exactly the path i'm meant to be on.  Really, it's startling how often it happens.  And yet it's already become a core way of how I react to and interpret life.

At the beginning of this journey I was this sane, logical, cynical person who valued science and "fact" above everything else.  I hated myself in so many ways and I fought a never-ending battle against that internal critic of mine which judged, weighed and measured and ultimately rejected everything I did, thought, felt, or wanted.  I pushed back hard against pretty much all forms of spirituality, and certainly the more woo-woo ones, because my mind- which I valued above all else- told me that couldn't be real.  I secluded myself inside of a relationship which justified, validated and reinforced every single one of these delusions.  And no, I was not what you might call happy.

Now, at the end of a year that has brought about more radical shifts in my worldview, personality, belief system and lifestyle than any other period of my life, I feel free.  I love myself, truly, genuinely and without constant effort.  (Certainly not without any effort at all, mind you, but without constant effort.)  That internal critic of mine- which used to be unstoppable white noise in the background of my thoughts- is so small now I hardly ever hear it.  It's still there, but it's quiet, usually.  Reserved.  A teacher rather than a tormentor.

 And all those judgements, measurements and rejections are so easily dismissed now that I marvel at the ease with which I can let them go.  I value my soul above all else and I use my intuition as the greatest guide I have in navigating and reacting to life.  And that relationship that kept all of those old systems in place, that I had been in for over a decade, that squashed so many of these now flourishing aspects of myself?  Yeah, that's gone. Or rather the person who I was while in that relationship is gone.   Replaced by honest communication and mindful relating that connects me more deeply to the people in my life than I ever have been.  I am the opposite of closed off now- I am open.  And I take in so much of what I used to keep out.

I don't know what comes next.  But I'm at peace with that because I am fully aware that i'm not supposed to.  Embarking on being a full-fledged yoga teacher will involve countless more lessons, journeys, insights and growths than I can possibly imagine right now.  This isn't the end of anything other than my initial training.  My journey, my soul's path... that is just beginning.

Y is for Yoga

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

I've spent the bulk of the past month talking about what yoga isn't so today it's finally time to speak to what it is.

As you can probably guess, there are many different definitions depending upon where you look.  However, there is one single definition that we ascribe to in my school and which resonates deepest with me personally.  (Drum roll, please)....

Yoga is a process for seeking out and removing obstacles to freedom.

There, is your mind blown?  Mine certainly was when I first heard it.  Hopefully that definition puts a lot of the rest of what I've discussed this month in some context.  Like, for example, why I would rally so hard against the idea of yoga as simply a form of exercise.  Why understanding the health benefits, nonetheless, is so vital.  Why it's so important to understand that asana are just one of the eight limbs on the eight-limbed path of yogic development.  And why I personally am so extremely devoted to this life-changing way of living.

Yoga is the single greatest method I have found to study, better understand and ultimately embrace this crazy, wild, wonderful soul that is me.  (And I've tried a lot of different methods towards that end over the years, trust me.)  And I am not in any way, shape or form saying that it is the ONLY way, simply that for me, it is the best.  And would it be what it is for me without everything else that I do that supports my overall well-being?  Of course not- those are also integral aspects of who I am.  But they were all there before I started this crazy journey almost a year ago.  

So how else to explain how drastically, completely, revolutionary different I am in the course of a year?  You guessed it, yoga.  

X is for Xenophilia

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

Xenophilia is an attraction towards foreign countries, peoples and cultures and is worth consideration in the spread of yoga throughout the western world.  If not for strong interest in the culture of yoga's country of origin the practice would not be what is is today.

Perhaps part of the attraction is the bipolar nature of our two cultures.  Here in America we are materially rich, spiritually poor, irreverent, and obsessed with money and all if can get us.  India is the complete and total opposite (save for the interest in money- but there it is based on necessity, not obsession.)  I myself have been drawn to the country where this rich practice has come from and find myself fascinated by the endless differences between our two cultures.

India is one of the world's oldest civilizations, is the birthplace of several of the world's largest religions (including Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism), and fascinates the world with it's food, music and dance, clothing, cinema and, of course, yoga.  With such a diverse and long history it's next to impossible not to find some aspect of the culture intriguing.

I am personally grateful to the countless individuals who were so fascinated by this culture that they saw fit to spread all of the traditions we now enjoy over here.  (Not the least of which is yoga.)

W is for Western Yoga

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

Western yoga, as you can probably imagine, is so far removed from the traditions of yoga practiced in India that they don't even call what we do yoga.  For them, yoga is a series of deeply spiritual practices designed to align one with the universal energy that flows through all living beings.  It involves intense meditation, chanting, lifestyle disciplines and (often) no asana (poses) whatsoever.

It's been around, in some form, for around 7,000 years over there.  We didn't pay any attention to it here in the US until the mid 19th century and there was no one here teaching it until the 1890's.  Early on, the spiritual practices and disciplines of the practice were taught but as the esoteric views of the late 19th century faded from popularity it faded as well.  It wasn't until the 1960's that yoga began to be seen again in the US. 

The rash of yoga that's we've seen in recent decades reflects a shift of perspective as to what yoga is- namely exercise.  When I tell people that I'm studying to be a yoga teacher they comment on my assumed physical fitness, flexibility and other physical attributes.  No one says "Wow, you must be a very spiritual person" (even though that's why I do it and want to teach it.)

I say this without any intent of soapboxing (though it may sound that way): yoga was not designed to be exercise.  Calling yoga exercise, exclusively, is like calling music noise.  Could you technically characterize it that way?  Sure.  Is that why people make it?  NO.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's fantastic that yoga has experienced a re-popularization over here in the West and the incredible health benefits of the practice are never going to be anything less than extraordinary.  But to view it simply as a form of exercise is to throw away some of the greatest gifts that mankind has known.

Thankfully, I am not the only person who feels this way.  In fact, I would argue that most people who stick with yoga and make significant lifestyle changes associated with it do it for spiritual purposes.  People who are looking for the next great exercise routine will likely do it for a while, never even scratch the surface of the deep spirituality contained within, and then drop it in favor of the next fad to come along.  Which, for them, is fine- health benefits, basic introduction to some really helpful concepts and whatnot are still great things to be exposed to.

But for me, it's so much more than that and I will always respect, revere and honor it as the life-changing process I have found it to be.

V is for Vinyasa

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

Vinyasa is a form of yoga known for dynamic movement linked with breath which has become incredibly popular in most U.S. yoga establishments.  I don't have the statistics on the number of yoga establishments (including gyms, Ys and whatnot) that teach vinyasa but i'll wager is right up there with hot yoga and other very popular forms of the practice.  It was created by Krishnamacharya who is often referred to as "The Father of Modern Yoga".

The primary tenants of vinyasa yoga are equal and opposite movements (meaning poses are always followed by counter-poses), flow (meaning that poses feed into one another in a particular sequence of movement) and breath (meaning that your in breath and out breath matches the movements as you go through the sequence).

Vinyasa is usually fast moving, involves somewhat challenging poses (meaning individuals with physical disabilities or injuries may have trouble with it) and stretches muscles to induce improved physical mobility, ability and muscle control.

My yoga teacher (who is training me to be a teacher) practices vinyasa and is (needless to say) incredibly talented at instructing others in it.  I, on the other hand, am not.  I find vinyasa to be... I don't want to say stressful because it's still yoga and the basic principles of body awareness, quiet mind and everything that makes yoga yoga are still there.  But it's not my favorite form and it's not where I gravitate towards as a teacher.

My preference is yin which is much more slow moving, involves staying in a pose for a long time, stretches muscles through gravity rather than physical strength and involves significantly more quiet moments for self-reflection and self-study.  Because the poses tend to be earthier there's a lot of time spent on the ground with supportive apparatus holding the body in a particular shape and are therefore able to practiced by a wider audience.   There is the same emphasis on breath control (though it's more meditative) with significantly increased emphasis on self-examination (which is why I love it so much).

What has always amazed me about both of these practices (and the many other styles of yoga in general) is that they're both aimed at the same goal: achieving Vidya (another V word!) or "clear sight" meaning one's ability to perceive the world as it is without all of our mental habits getting in the way (like ego, fear of pain, etc).  But they go about it in extremely different ways.  

Finding the practice that works best for you is one of the primary reasons that one who is starting a yoga practice is encouraged to try out different styles.  You have to find what fits.

U is for Understanding

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

 If you've been following me through the alphabet this year you've probably come to see that one of the primary purposes of yoga is to gain a greater understanding of oneself.  To see the patterns of behavior that keep us stuck, to draw connections between those patterns and the things that trigger us in everyday life, and then to consciously observe ourselves when being triggered so that we can change those patterns by doing things differently.  There's a lot of tools that all come under the general category of yoga to help us in these tasks, but that quest for understanding is at the core of all of them.

 

I used to think, based on my professional experience, that understanding came from telling the story, dissecting it and studying it (much the same way one would in a lab- through logical, orderly testing and note-taking.)  Based on my experience in applying the techniques of yoga to my own personal journey of self-exploration I've come to believe that these techniques I've described through the month (meditation, asana, artistic creation, tribal discussion and all the rest) are far more effective and efficient tools.  Understanding doesn't come from telling a story.  It comes from feeling- mindfully, with total awareness and with all the compassionate observation in the world.

Because that is the place where change comes from.

Househunting

You asked me once why I was going house-hunting with you if I was so deeply unhappy with you.  I said, because it was my best guess at the time, it was because I was in denial.  Ending things with you was the hardest thing I'd ever done.  Even thinking about it brought on panic attacks for years.  It hurt too much to really look at honestly,  until you forced my hand.

And while I would still say that all of that is true, I see another layer to it now.  I think it wasn't just denial of how things were, it was that intoxicating possibility of how things might be.

When we drove around those neighborhoods and remarked on the yards, the nearby parks, the trees or bushes or windows looking out on all of these things I imagined.  I imagined me sitting in one of those gardens, surrounded by green and light, meditating.  Quiet.  Peaceful.  Serene.  I imagined myself as unbothered by all of the things that bothered me.  I imagined myself transcending my obsessive worrying and all those resentments that would eventually break us.  I imagined myself happy within myself.

And I imagined, like we all like to imagine, that the dream house would somehow fix you in so many of the ways you wouldn't fix yourself.  You'd sleep, finally.  Because of the privacy, or the comfort, or something.  You'd work less because you so loved the home, our home, and you'd want to spend more time in it.  You'd be happy because all of your hard work over the years, all of your misery over the years, all of your monotonous toiling had led you to this... victory, I guess?  That was sort-of how you talked about it, at least.  Like it would define some level of success that you hadn't yet achieved.

It's funny, but in the end I think I did see all of those fantasies for what they really were.  I realized- and I even said it to you- that if you locked yourself into this big mortgage you could only afford by being a workaholic that you would just work that much harder, sink that much deeper, disappear that much more.  And all of those reasons why we'd pick the house in the first place- the large yard and huge windows and all that precious privacy- would become liabilities.  Things that had to be paid to be maintained, fixed, kept up.  And I would be there, in that big, beautiful house, alone.  But even more so, because of all that privacy.

So I abandoned that dream.  And I faced reality.  And I found out, as everything fell apart, that the dream house was one of many fantasies I'd been nursing for years.  Much like the fantasy that when you said nothing it was because you understood me and nothing needed to be said.  Like the fantasy that our life together was benefiting both of us, making us both better.  Like the fantasy, the story, the one that took the longest to abandon, that we were forever.  We weren't.

We were a dream house that never really existed in the first place.

And now, standing at the welcome mat for something else, I find myself being pulled into another fantasy.  So many more things to imagine, so many more possibilities.  And they are enticing, warming, ever so intoxicating.  But they are no more real than that dream house that never existed. 

So the challenge, the mental marathon of disciplined thought, is staying here- right where I am, right now, without letting myself be pulled into that ever-so-lovely possible future.  

It's so much more difficult than anything I've ever done.  And yet, it's real.  And it's enough.

T is for Teacher

 

 As always, a huge shout out to Ninja Minion Master Captain Alex and his army of ninja minions! 

My Theme: Yoga.  For those of you who don't know, I've been working on obtaining my yoga teacher's certification for the past year and am just a little over a month from graduating with my RYT200.  As such, I figure there's no better way to spend this month than teaching you folks some of what I've learned.

 

In a little over 3 weeks I will be graduating from teacher training and will be a full-fledged teacher.  It's an odd thing to ever feel comfortable calling oneself (which is why I tell people that "I teacher karate" rather than calling myself a karate teacher).  Especially in an endeavor where the entire enterprise is about transcending ego.  So, in all likelihood, I'll end up saying the same thing about yoga- that I teach it.

 

I think it's an important thing to consider, though.  Especially in the days of self-proclaimed gurus who take their status and use it for evil.  There are, unfortunately, many example of individuals who seemed to miss the whole ego-transcendence thing and tout themselves as leaders who then go on to make headlines with charges of sexual assault, abuse, and horrifically unethical treatment of their students.  These people abused the power appointed to them by people who placed them pedestals they never deserved, earned or could stay on.

 

Yoga, as I've been revealing over this month is about a hell of a lot than just asana and I'm no less likely to admire someone who seems to be on the right path and offers advice on how to do the same within my own life.  But here's the thing about the right path: it's something that only you can walk.  Really, there is no "Right path", there's only YOUR PATH.  And how the hell can someone possibly tell you how to walk your path?

 

The obvious answer is that they can't.  Which is why yoga teachers, however wise and transcended they may personally be, are always only just pieces of the overall puzzle that your yourself have to put together.  Lets not hero worship our teachers.  Lets just appreciate them for what they are: folks offering instruction, advice and cheer-leading our efforts.  I think we'd all be a lot better off for it.