wandering student to traveling teacher
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One of my first mysore-style classes at Spirit Yoga, Osaka. |
I had been to the Philippines to assist after India, followed by teaching in Spain. After Osaka I'll be heading to Egypt, again to cover a mysore program. I had made a transition without being fully aware of it. I was a little shocked at first, then amazed, then grateful...
And the Universe was good, complying and giving me the opportunities to
move about, learn from amazing master teachers, from friends, and from
loved ones. When the opportunity arose, I would teach but it was not my
focus. I returned to Mysore again. Svadyaya, was a key word. I
was constantly, it seemed, self-studying--on the mat, off the mat, from
books, and from experience. I often emphasized how I was a student
first. But what of teaching?
I still wanted to teach but didn't hanker for it, content to take the
time to learn. Perhaps there was a part of me that took refuge in being
the student, that my lot wasn't to teach--not yet! maybe never?--but
instead to simply prepare. In the beginning, I honestly didn't believe I
was ready. But in recent times, I think maybe I was scared. There was
safe-ness to being the student. As a student, I was accountable mostly
for my own learning. I was responsible to grow and expand for my own
good only. And what if... what if I didn't make a good teacher?
I realize now how much I stepped away from the role of teaching. How I
was happy to be the student around other great teachers, how I stepped
aside for them, not just my seniors but my peers too. But if I were
totally honest, I guess there has also been a certain amount of
dissonance in this act, because I have learned a lot, because I also
have things to share now--and because, I am coming to realize, I've
always had to something to share.
Yes, I am a student. Yes, I will always be a student. I will always
honor and respect and give time to my own teacher. To my Guru. And that
there is always time and space to humbly be the student.
But, yes, I am also a teacher. And am feeling my teacher-ness more now
than last March when I received my teacher's blessing to teach. The
authorization from Sharath matters to me, of course--the reasons for
which could be an article in itself but I had wondered sometime in June
as I blundered nervously through a guided class, whether I was really
really ready, had Sharath made a mistake, had he misjudged me, perhaps I
hadn't ripened?
Yet, here I am. In Osaka. Called here to
teach. Teaching. I get up very very early so that I can practice for
myself but also for the students who will come and lay their mats down
after I've finished. And when they come into the 6th floor studio of
Spirit Yoga, they are under my gaze and guidance. For
a brief moment, their practice is an extension of my own, their breath
is my breath. And I try my best to be present in order to help
facilitate the subtest of movements.
Maybe Sharath's blessing is a part of an initiation, this coming of age that we perpetual students must also go through.
Perhaps being really ready entails stepping into the role, not running
away from it or being scared by it. Instead, accepting the
responsibility that being a good student now also includes working
towards being a good teacher. That all that self-study has to be good
for more that just one person, that knowledge so dearly earned is meant
to be shared.
And this fear of teaching? Trying to face it, to stare it down. I still freak out just
a little bit here and there, I get nervous--about stupid stuff, really,
like forgetting the opening prayer midway, or the counting, oh God, the
counting! But those evil, little nagging moments of self-doubt, they
are coming less and less, they are loosing their power. Last June, after
my train-wreck of a class (mind you, the students were fine, only the
teacherly were critical, god bless them!), my friend Paul was giving me
feedback, I needed to simply practice teaching, he said. I guess that
time was also a part of this transition. And, yes, I am reminded that
everything comes down to practice.
So, here I am in Osaka where students call me "Sensei Kaz," which
for an American like myself is just so odd and yet so obscenely cool
because I learned that word from the movie "Karate Kid." But it's also
weighty. It comes with this new sense of responsibility. I'm not in my
comfort zone anymore, but it's ok because I know that this is also the
place where the magic happens. So, bring it!
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