In truth, who among yoga practitioners has not had a similar experience? As human beings, we gravitate towards the familiar. We not only choose our teachers based on merit, skill, and experience, but “gut feelings,” templates established from life experience, and the extent to which our teachers embody aspects of ourselves—both explicit and repressed. As such, many students become very attached to yoga instructors, not unlike client to therapist, or religious supplicant to clergyman. The preferred instructor comes to represent something deeply safe, familiar; their words, medicine to the soul. When we find that teacher we really resonate with, they often serve a deeper need than mere “yoga instructor.”

Yet while this teacher, for a time, may serve as a panacea, there comes a time when over-attachment—just as in any other relationship—may cease to serve. Safety and comfort may turn to stagnation, failing to highlight areas in need of physical, spiritual, and emotional support. For example, teachers tend to lead poses that feel good in their bodies, or that are easier for them; as students, practicing similar sequences habitually may predispose your body to injury or imbalance. By over-attaching to one teacher or approach, you fail to expose yourself to teachings that may take you to your edge though the spark of resistance, potentially facilitating growth.

Chinese Ch’an master Lin-chi I-huasan famously quotes, “If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha...if you meet your parents, kill your parents...in this way, you attain liberation.” Thus, truth resides internally. No teacher or system contains a truth that we do not ourselves embody. By affiliating exclusively with any single system, while tremendous growth and lessons may occur, we may find temporary safety, but shortchange our own brilliance and agency in the process.

In sum, the greatest gift to our beloved teachers is to grow beyond them, witnessing the most resisted of circumstances as the sweetest of learning opportunities. If, on the mat with an unfamiliar teacher all we can think of is heading out the door, what is so painful or challenging that makes staying impossible? What truth does this offer about ourselves? And, perhaps most importantly, how might we use this to cultivate awareness and compassion for our shared humanity?

Have you ever walked out of yoga class or found it challenging to take a class with a sub when you showed up expecting your favorite teacher?

Sury Nama: ...

Yes. I never learned my lesson, even as a Methodist and the way they rotate preachers (for the same reasons) I change teachers when my journey changes but I want what I want till Im done. But in all fairness I would appreciate more communication when it comes to subs in the yoga class.

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July 08, 2012