"The cradle of the future is the grave of the past." - Franz Grillparzer, Austrian writer
| U.S. astronaut Cady Coleman after her space capsule landed in Kazakhstan in May 2011. |
I know the above quote seems obvious, the cycle of life and death, etc., etc., but it got me thinking. I taught my last yoga class at the health department yesterday, and I cried at the death of a practice I've devoted myself to for more than two years. And, it dawned on me fully that this move to Virginia represents an end to a long chapter, an end to my teaching in Austin, something I've been pouring love into since 1997 ... students and teachers I've devoted myself to and with whom I've forged close ties. Some have moved on, as all students should. In fact, the sign of a quick student is one who outgrows the teacher. I suspect that the sign of a good teacher is one who is not afraid to outgrow his/her students - or at least confronts that fear head on. This is not because there is no more to teach, but because the teacher needs to grow too. And to grow, sometimes one has to take drastic action ... like moving to another state. Change makes us work harder on ourselves. Change makes us work harder to adapt. And, successful adaptation is what creates rebirth, evolution, strength and wisdom.
As I was driving home yesterday, I heard an interview on NPR's All Things Considered with two astronauts, Cady Coleman and Leroy Chiao. They were discussing the dismantling of the space shuttle program. Though they had their regrets, something struck me as similar and familiar. Cady had this to say about the shuttle program: "In order to explore, we need a new vehicle. And we can't fly this one and operate this one. It's too expensive and it drains too many of the people that we need — we need their knowledge and expertise ... to develop new vehicles that will take us further. Because going further is what we're all about," she says. "It's a hard change, it's necessary and in some ways, I think it's OK just to take some time to grieve."
As I was driving home yesterday, I heard an interview on NPR's All Things Considered with two astronauts, Cady Coleman and Leroy Chiao. They were discussing the dismantling of the space shuttle program. Though they had their regrets, something struck me as similar and familiar. Cady had this to say about the shuttle program: "In order to explore, we need a new vehicle. And we can't fly this one and operate this one. It's too expensive and it drains too many of the people that we need — we need their knowledge and expertise ... to develop new vehicles that will take us further. Because going further is what we're all about," she says. "It's a hard change, it's necessary and in some ways, I think it's OK just to take some time to grieve."
I teach my last class in Austin this Sunday morning. I have worked so hard to cultivate my practice and cultivate myself, to impart whatever knowledge I have to my students so that they have more tools to cultivate themselves. But this is Austin, and it is a community of very open-minded people who are considered a little (a lot) weird by the rest of Texas. We're the San Francisco of Texas. We recycle, we eat healthy, we exercise, we all know vegans and make sure there is a vegan option when we throw barbeques. we have the first zero-trash grocery store in the country. It's the place of my yoga birth, but it's also easy to teach yoga here: people are receptive.
Moving to Virginia is my new vehicle. The yoga culture is nascent, and I'm going to have to use a whole new skill set to create a yoga community as well as a new community for my family. I once joked to my beginner classes that learning how to do yoga can be compared to Kubler-Ross' 5 Stages of Grief:
- Denial (this isn't happening to me!) - "Seriously, this yoga thing is hard! I hate having to work this hard!"
- Anger (why is this happening to me?) - "I will never forgive X for dragging me to this class. Why did I ever think I could do yoga? I can't stand this teacher; who does s/he think s/he is?"
- Bargaining (I promise I'll be a better person if...) - "If I can just get through this, I promise myself I'll start going to the gym, or get on the treadmill, or go on a diet. I know I need to improve my life, but yoga is not for me; it's too hard!"
- Depression (I don't care anymore) - "I'm sore, I'm tired, I don't want to go to yoga. But I paid my money and promised my friend I'd go. I feel like a martyr. I'd rather just veg in front of the TV."
- Acceptance (I'm ready for whatever comes) - "Wow, I feel so much better! I can't believe I made it through the last couple of weeks. This is amazing! OK, it's a lot of hard work, and I don't look as good doing the postures as that 20-year-old in the front of the room, but if I keep working on this, I know I'm going to be doing something better for myself. I can already see the difference!"