Why I’m No Longer a (Spiritual or any other) Teacher
Letting go of the agenda and clearing the path
Diana C.’s prompt for this week about being a humble wayshower for humanity’s awakening encouraged me to share a shift that’s been happening within me over the past seven or eight years.
This shift might be because I’m eternally confused as to my dharma, or soul’s purpose; I admit I push back on this concept.
It might be because I’ve failed one too many times (according to society).
It might be because I’m moving into my crone years, and what matters now is doing what feels most aligned to me, not whether it fits my “dharma” or whether I might fail.
Yep, let’s go with that last one.
To start, let me say I’ve always been a teacher of some kind or another in my life. Starting when I was 14 or 15, I taught ballet classes—choosing the music and choreographing the steps as the childrens’ parents dutifully waited on the other side of the door. I got small paychecks that went directly to the McDonald’s across the street after class.
In college, I tutored algebra, statistics, and calculus. I loved that feeling of watching the lightbulb go on for someone. I had a knack for patiently explaining something in different ways. I got paid a little for this, too, and pretty sure that went toward weekend drinks.
By my mid-20’s, though, I’d settled into a corporate job that mostly involved making copies and organizing binders. They paid me better, but I was nearly losing my mind with boredom. One day, I helped a co-worker with his Excel spreadsheet. He suggested I teach it. Bingo. I quit, and went to teach Excel, Word, and Access at a computer learning center. Horrible pay, again, and awful working conditions (we had to lug around dozens of heavy, portable PCs), but I loved the creative process of teaching.
So, it seemed logical that when I started studying yoga, I would eventually teach it (and oh yes, not much pay in that, either). For many years, I taught yoga and spirituality, and eventually, yoga teacher training programs.
From there were endless possibilities of things to teach. I would take drumming classes and then share what I learned with my students. When I went on a weekend chanting retreat, I taught the chants rather than Downward Facing Dog in our next class. Whether I was learning about essential oils, Reiki, pulse reading, or cranial sacral work — I always reported back what I’d learned.
One thing I know about myself: If I learn something, I want to share it. It’s an instinct, a drive, an impulse.
Some years ago, I left my yoga life to study Ayurveda. And, true to form, once I was certified, I immediately sought to teach it. Same thing happened after I wrote and published my book—hey, I could teach others how to self-publish!
I am a Teacher, capital T. Or, at least, I’ve assumed so for a very long time.
In recent years, though, I’ve been (gently) questioning my life-long pattern.
Why is it that even at the start of learning a new skill or applying a new piece of information, I begin wondering how I might present it to others? Could I learn something simply for the sake of learning it? Would it be selfish to use it solely for my own spiritual growth?
It’s a good thing to pay things forward, but perhaps not everything must be. Maybe some things I can learn merely for my own pleasure or embodiment. Perhaps, in the act of passing things on right away, I lose some of that teaching’s potency or power; I’ve learned in the process of alchemy that complete infusion happens only when the ingredients are not allowed any escape.
As I was feeling this shift taking place from Teacher to…something else, I consulted with a healer/psychic/Tarot reader.
One of the first things she did after reviewing my birth chart was to tell me what my “word” was. This word would encompass who I am in this lifetime. It would speak to my life path and encapsulate my soul’s journey.
My word was: Bestower.
The word means: to give, to confer, to present.
I’ve now sat with that word for several years. I’ve talked it over with people close to me, but this is the first I’ve written about it. While both teachers and bestowers gather information, ideas, and wisdom, they are different in many crucial ways:
A Teacher
- Needs students
- Has a syllabus, an agenda, and a vested interest in whether or not the students understand the material.
- Success is measured by the success/retention of students.
A Bestower
- Does not need students
- Has no agenda or vested interest
- Success is internal
As a bestower, rather than a teacher, I need to do nothing more than continue to walk my own life path. I do not need to search for students; I can be my own. I do not need to offer classes or courses or even try to put information together in cohesive ways. I do not need to stick around or look around to see if anyone else even picks up what I’ve left behind—let alone receives value from it. Instead of trying to herd others to walk a path with me, I get to walk independently, without counting heads or wondering if we’ve lost Joey somewhere.
As a bestower, I get to focus on what I’ve always loved the most about being a teacher: the learning, and the collecting of information and wisdom. And I get to let go of how other people respond to it.
This feels right to me—to no longer teach the way, and not even show the way, but to instead show one way. My way.
It’s as if for most of my life, I’ve been reading a map while guiding a hike simultaneously. But now, I’m just going to head out on a path of my own, see what I can find, clear what I can—and if anyone else would like to come down this path, I just may have left a few gifts behind.