It Turns out, it Takes Commitment

Tess and Daddy floating their lotus

Time flies for the infrequent blogger!  The end of another semester, the start of Summer and an endless list of "to do" projects on house and self have kept me occupied.  I've now moved out to Nantucket, our Summer haven where my wife runs the beautiful Yoga Room.  My painting studio is located above the practice room so my days are spent painting for upcoming exhibitions and keeping up a daily Ashtanga practice (mostly on the back porch, my favorite spot) - all while spending more time with my family that is hard to find during the busy academic semester.

This month of Guru Purnima and Guruji's birthday have me reflecting a great deal on teaching (and learning) this practice.  With the Mysore classes at the Motion Center on hold for the Summer while I'm away, I'm doing only a little teaching here at the Yoga Room one evening a week - not Mysore but Vinyasa.  A nice change but I really enjoy the Mysore classes the most - my heart is in the Ashtanga system.  (Kino Macgregor wrote a wonderful article about Mysore teaching on Elephant Journal recently, that I recommend.)  Myself, I came to teaching Mysore by accident, really, when our wonderful teacher, Jill Manning, left for Mysore herself and ultimately moved from Providence.  I have a steady, home practice and have taught led Primary for years so I was experienced and quite comfortable teaching the practice but quickly realized how challenging and how different teaching Mysore style is.  The best way to describe the difference, is that a led class, of any kind, seems to me to involve some element of performance for the teacher.  Delivery, vocal quality and presence in the room are as much an element of the class as knowledge of the practice and body.  Invariably, the ego of the teacher gets involved.  We've seen it happen again and again, sometimes to detrimental extremes. Mysore teaching is something different all together.  As the teacher, you are there to facilitate and guide each individual on their own particular path.  This requires such sensitivity on the part of the teacher to where that student is on that path and the particular obstacles they may face along the way.

Wanting to set an example and being re-energized through my teaching, I continually renew my commitment to the practice and have made sure to get in some kind of practice every day when before, a conflict could easily knock me off my practice schedule.  (One of the benefits of a professor's schedule is that this time of year I can get a long practice in without conflicting with work or other obligations.)  I also find I practice differently, examining my own path closely and how one moves forward with the integrity that the practice demands in order to overcome obstacles and work through difficulties.  There are challenges at every turn - our own limitations and fears, not the least of them.  Watching closely how one confronts those challenges is where some of the most useful information to pass on to students can be gleaned.  Humility, humor and grace in these situations are necessary tools to carry along the path.  The best teachers help to equip the student with those tools and the discipline required for them to maintain their own practice.  We get up early, get to the studio, make our best effort and repeat - daily, weekly.  The teacher is there, each step of the way.

I have never been to Mysore - though I do hope to get there someday - and only practiced with Guruji when he came to the States.   I feel I know him through the stories I've heard and read but mostly through this practice he left us.  The longer I stay with it, the more I marvel at the wisdom and teaching that are built in to the series, learning through the challenges faced and the systematic unfolding of the body.  We learn to take the next step by mastering the foundations of the place that we are in.  It turns out, this takes commitment - and the Guru is always there.