Saturday, June 12, 2010


Before about 3:00PM today, I was in quite unbelievable darkness. I had no interest in doing anything. At all. Ever again. Gordon Ramsay, in his "Kitchen Nightmares" series, often asks the wayward chefs he has come to help, "Where's your passion?"

If Gordon had asked me that question earlier today, I simply would have said, "Gone."

Today at 3:00, I participated in a "teacher training" for Iyengar-yoga teachers wishing to learn how to teach yoga to MS sufferers.

Training those teachers was the "o-sensei" of MS-appropriate Iyengar yoga, Eric Small himself.

Anyway, I did about what, three? maybe four? poses, something like that, ending with a shavasana across six chairs, so I didn't have to fight with getting down and up from the floor.

And at the end of the sessions, I felt better than I have in months. Years, maybe.

My legs are still screwy, today's yoga did nothing for my legs. But as for my heart, my spirit... I felt like my heart was simply shining... with brilliant, beautiful Light.

I haven't felt filled with light for a long, long time. It was unbelievably wonderful.

And Eric gave me other gifts, too, that had nothing to do with asanas. He really is a quite wonderful man, and an amazing teacher... and one thing he told the teachers as we began the session really connected with me on a very profound level.

Each model (I was a model) was assigned two or three teachers. The first thing he asked each teacher to do was to shake hands with the model, and hold the handshake for a few extra seconds. Then, he asked them, "What did you feel? Cold? Hot? Shaking? Steady? Weak? Firm?" He told them that as teachers, they had to connect with the student; and more than that, to connect their heart to the student's heart, so that there is trust; because with no trust, there can be no teaching.

The teacher and the students must connect their hearts one to another. If hearts aren't connected, there will be no teaching.

I've always felt that teaching worked that way, but I never distilled it to that clarity.

This is going to change the way I teach high-school students how to use computers. It's going to teach the way I teach anything. Everything.

And if I feel even close to this good every time I do this style of yoga... well, I know how I'm spending Thursday and Saturday evenings for the rest of the summer.

1 comment:

Karen Kahler said...

This is beautiful.
I wish you a summer full of light, and not just the kind that makes the cat wake us up far too early.