I recently read the expression ‘a teacher’s teacher’ and I’ve been wondering what this means. And who it’s meant to appeal to. Teachers presumably. So that they feel they’re somewhere on the yoga teacher hierarchy (even non-judgemental yogis presumably have a sense of hierarchy) and are getting some superior level of teaching? I can only speculate, since the teachers I encounter all offer me way more riches than I can currently receive.
My own regular teacher is currently running his own TT programme, so that makes him de facto a teacher’s teacher — though I’m not sure this is what the expression usually conveys. In a slightly parallel universe off the mat I’ve just become a ‘manager’s manager’ for the first time, through a small restructure to my team. But again that’s a simple fact, not a message of self-publicity. My ever-encouraging, wise-thinking boss tells me that the junior manager could learn much from my style. I of course can’t quite see this. I just do what I do, so I’m not sure how I might pass any of this on. Or indeed if it’s appropriate to? In managing as in teaching we must all find our individual style. I’ll find a way of defining the scope and the required outcomes, but she’ll ultimately have to frame the method herself by feeling her way into this new role
And I wonder if my yoga teacher with his TT programme faces similar challenges to me in my new uber-manager role. How will he teach new teachers? He’s a great teacher because he teaches from his heart. How might he transfer that to others? He reminds me of my work-manager who is equally heartfelt, just with a strong corporate twist. They’re both role-models to me, but I’m not about to start emulating them. The shoes just wouldn’t fit. Instead I work my own modest version of their magic on my path, and I come back to source for inspiration and guidance. They are my ‘re-source’.
One of my other teachers made a comment to me today about me having now ‘come home to myself’, finding my truth in yoga and needing to teach that. It was a slightly opaque comment (how much intent did he mean? he did a long time back ask me if I was going to teach…), but it got me wondering about vocation and how that might feel. Would I ever feel I needed to teach, and would I ever feel I had something to teach?
Over a girly coffee meet-up earlier this week a dear friend talked about how I inspired her to begin yoga. I was touched and her enthusiasm is pure joy to me. And what was best? She said that I radiate happiness when I talk about yoga. 🙂 Radiating and happiness not being descriptions I am used to hearing, though I do increasingly. So it’s statistically relevant in my world at least. Will I ever find myself called to share that?
Back in management world, I received emails from two different colleagues today, both heartfelt expressions of respect and admiration, both telling me they feel lucky to have me in their lives. One of them was so profound that it got me full on crying. Unprofessionally. In front of my manager. Luckily as a good manager myself, I have a box of tissues at hand!
I’m not blowing my own trumpet. I’m just bewildered by so many expressions of faith in me in a short space of time. I need to keep listening: I haven’t yet truly ‘come home to myself’ — I’m still far distant, though I might have found some kind of map to bring me closer (to strain the metaphor!). And so I still feel massive imposter syndrome in these guiding roles. But one day I’ll feel less a foreigner in my own life. Is this what they call finding your dharma?
I think I need to have another small cry. And when I’ve stopped snuffling I’ll roll out my mat and do my practice. Because somehow magically, weirdly, this shape-making and conscious breathing gives me the stability to stand tall in the eyes of others. And one day I hope to more fully inhabit that stature.
Thank you for reading my thoughts, rambling as they are.
lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu