The Teacher Within

My favorite yoga teacher, Natasha, announced that she was leaving to move up to the Bay Area. And since her last class is this weekend, I'll be missing it since I'll be out of town. But we're going to try and see each other while I'm in the Bay Area for the next few months. As I've mentioned in various places around this blog, whenever I take class with Natasha I feel like I take something away that's really important.

So it's sad that she's leaving because I adore her so much and I feel like she has given me so much in the short few months I've taken with her. It makes me feel like I shouldn't have taken her for granted and that I should have gone to every class of hers. You just never think that such a great teacher is going to go away. I honestly have only taken four or five classes with Natasha, but I went to them knowing that I would have a place of solace.

Maybe knowing how we all feel about her, she had a special theme for our class today. Today's class was about the idea that we have a teacher within ourselves. So even when you have a teacher that you love and they go away, the purpose of that teacher is that they are supposed to help us find the lessons that already exist within us.

Then she started crying. It was unexpected for herself and for us. Then I started getting emotional. My friend Nicole and I just looked at each other. It was so honest.

Then she had us shut our eyes and think about how we can learn the things that are already inside of us. How can we be teachers to ourselves, so that the lessons are never lost, so that those teachers are always within us? And how can we be teachers to each other.

Then it was my turn. I lost it. As my eyes were closed, I started crying. Like always, Natasha spoke to the exact place I was in that moment. I'm going to teach for the first time next month. And I've learned from my great teachers. The best ones are the ones who give of themselves. And I have to say that even though I only have known Natasha for a short period of time and we didn't have a lot of actual time together, she has taught me so much about teaching. And she's the person I'm going to be thinking of as I start on this new adventure with my students.

She's always so open. Every class began with an idea. Sometimes a Sanskrit word that we focus on. Then she strings it through the class. So that every movement, every pose, every stretch is filtered through the idea of that class. It's a real merger of the body, mind and spirit and that synthesis really improves the experience of the other areas. The body experience deepens the mind and spirit, the thought of the idea deepens the practice of the body and the spirit. And the spiritual connection allows us to stretch deeper, feel things more as well as opens up new thought and ideas about the concept of the class. It's really beautiful.

And her spirit is just beautiful. She has the best smile, the cutest body, the most articulate instrument--voice and body--to guide us through. It inspires me to be more, to leave each student with a gift. And it teaches me that having a high aspiration for each class is not a bad thing. People keep saying that these students might not write again, might not be interested in theatre, might not be receptive. That I shouldn't challenge them too much.

But I remember my first playwriting teacher. He just inspired by doing. We kept going along because he was the pied piper. So I'm going to have a vision for this class. I know how I'm structuring it. I just got my text books in the mail today. So now I can finish my lesson plans. I have a lot to read and to prepare. Now I just have to fill in the vision with the details of what we will be doing each class.

The other thing that Natasha said today was that no one can do your practice like you can. It's completely yours and unique to you. And that's true of my class. It's true of everything I am. No one does what I do. No one writes the plays I write. No one has characters like the characters I have. No one phrases things like I do. It's easy to look on someone else's paper. Their successes. Their accolades and want that. But that's not mine. My successes and accolades are on record and the future ones are to come. No one can take away my past, present or future successes either.

That encouragement allows me to go deeper into my practice in yoga class. When I hear encouragement, I go deeper, I feel things more and I get more out of it. I never feel like it's impossible. Today I did the Crow Pose for the first time EVER. I just decided that I would do it before Natasha left. And then I launched right into it. My fear completely disappeared. The doubt washed away and I was off the ground. Like everything, you just have to find a way to do it.

And like my yoga practice, once I put my mind to things, the obstacles just fall away. It has always been that way throughout my life without fail. I survived my childhood--the relentless teasing and name calling (sissy, faggot, girl). I survived my home life--the relentless yelling and put downs. I made it into the high school of my dreams. I went to a wonderful college that I'm going back to in three weeks to continue the cycle of learning. I went to the grad school of my dreams in the city of my dreams and I survived. And a lot of fear and resistance got the best of me. But even that was the important lesson for me to get to this place. I had to be tested and I had to learn to trust in myself. I had to learn that I'm enough, complete and ready now.

Becoming the teacher means that I'm no longer the student. I'm no longer the person without expertise and I can stand tall in that knowledge. It's this knowledge that will allow me to move forward in my pursuits instead of hiding behind the idea that I only have things to learn and I can't speak my voice with authority.

I have been afraid of that transition my whole life. But now I know it's my destiny. It's the teacher within that is now the teacher inside and out.

Thanks, Natasha. I'm super grateful.