The wise soul’s capacity

I’m still somewhere in the weird, uncharted territory of the grief cycle as it pertains not to an actual death but from a loss of a relationship, namely breaking up with my long-time yoga teacher. It’s not a socially-acceptable kind of grief and likely sounds all cultish and dependent and creepy to anyone not in the yoga world. And maybe does to even within the yoga world, as it’s only a particular type of student, I think, who learns yoga in such a personalised, not to say intimate, way.

So I’ve not talked about it too much, only with my husband and two friends who have sat with me through some tears and made me feel loved and supported — without any of them resorting to self-righteous platitudes of ‘it’s not you, it’s him’ or ‘you deserve better’, although they each delicately touched around these suggestions in their own beautiful, affirming ways.

I have also shared helpfully with two yoga mentors who have known me some time. They have provided much-needed context and perspective and I have learned a lot from their different attitudes and from how they support my ongoing practice, helping me recreate for myself what I feel I’ve lost. And they both — very touchingly — shared with me their own personal experiences of losing valued teachers on their own journeys. I don’t feel so weird or alone now.

One cited a beautiful example of a 6-month long transition from one teacher to another, her teacher gently telling her it was time to move on and helping her reconcile to that gradually before introducing her to other teachers who might be more relevant to her as her journey evolved. It sounded perfect! Not easy, but a wonderfully supportive and mature process that I imagine is rare to find. When it’s right, a student-teacher relationship is like nothing else — in the best way possible!

Her second story was, however, less positive, involving her in one of the many sex scandals and yoga school collapses that have been a feature of recent yoga times. She is clearly still working through the trauma, shame, and grief of this one, even more than a decade later. So she was full of vitriol on my behalf, talking of spiritual bypassing, ghosting, patriarchal dominance and yoga studio politics. All of which might be true, even if (and I am sure of this) unintended in my case– so it helped me only for a brief moment before it filled me with despair. Yes, it’s essential to be seen and heard and acknowledged in one’s pain and suffering, but if that compassion starts to fan the flames and create more suffering, it’s time to take a step away.

My other mentor talked about his current very long term teacher and past teachers and the pain of realising for himself when it had been time to move on. He too acknowledged my pain and suffering but with a heavy emphasis on the long-term benefits and learning to be gained. He has been urging me to find the gift in this situation, to reap all that I can from the unique opportunity, not to try to rush through towards some sticking-plaster quick fix, but to tend to the deeper wounds, past karma and patterns that continue to bind me.

It sounds terribly hard. And it is.

And he knows it.

And tells me I can and I should do it anyway. Somehow it makes sense in his words. He reminds me I’m a yogi, I’m on ‘the hero’s journey’ and it sounds uplifting rather than cliched and embarrassing (as it might sound reading it here!). We have exchanged an email about once a month for the past 6 months or so, and there has been something so wonderful in the unhurried nature of this communication. It brought to mind a fellow-teacher coming to my class once and saying that although teachers often say “take your time” my class was the first time she’d actually felt that it was offered with any sincerity. That was so precious. And I feel this now in my slow emailing. There’s no sense of urgency, in fact the opposite — this teacher is urging me to dwell, stay present, take all the time I need, allow the unfolding…. and all that stuff. This in itself is a gift to experience. Even in the remoteness of time and space, I feel held. He is teaching me to trust myself again, that I will know the right time and the right thing to do, if I wait and keep attentive.

And today I read a comment by one of these mentors about “the wise soul’s capacity to consume and digest the hard truths of life, which are so beautiful and precious, but inedible by common people” and it seemed to speak to the other teacher’s suggestion that I learn and come to some deeper understanding through my current suffering. Two teachers can’t be wrong…?

So I’m hoping I have a wise soul, or can at least cultivate one, rather than staying as one of those ‘common people’. I’m hoping I can digest what I need to, metabolise it in the right way, and come out not just stronger in some self-assertive or aggressive way, but also softer and more nourished, more aware of all that I am and might still become.

That is my hope. I’m praying today to Medha, memory and discernment, to help me reflect on my past and learn from it, to be nourished by new possibilities instead of caught in old patterns and the stickiness of familiarity, the grooves of samskara. I pray to remember what has passed in a fruitful way that sets me up well for my next steps. I pray for perception and focus, for courage and grace. Always for grace.