One of my teachers thanked me recently for wearing my hair in a beautiful braid — doing this just for her, she said. She then used my braid to coax me into better alignment, tugging at it gently to guide me. I actually didn’t mind this. She has such a light and loving touch, I feel her intentions are good. It was an altogether different experience to the hair-pulling bullying that I got at school when I was very little, before I’d learned how to hit! (I don’t hit people any more, but I was a little bit wild back then…)
In class with my usual teacher, he touched me lightly on the back in passing, right at the start of practice in the first downward facing dog. He’s perhaps aware I’m doing some deep work at the moment, knew I was feeling unsure about being in class on this particular day. It might have seemed a casual touch, but that’s not his style: nothing in his teaching happens without some intention. This simple acknowledgement of my presence, and his presence, really settled me. It was unfussy and disproportionately reassuring.
I love the natural simplicity of these two teachers, how they handle me with care. So different, each so themselves; both determining what I need, how to care for me simply but powerfully. They help me abide in my practice.