My yoga teacher trained in Mysore. Well so did mine. Mine lived in Mysore for 17 years.
My teacher was born in Mysore. Well mine is on her third lifetime in Mysore. I go there for classes all winter.
Do you know these conversations?
My yoga teacher has a background in dance.
Mine, too. She danced with Nureyev.
Mine taught Baryshnikov everything he knew.
My yoga teacher was on the cover of Yoga Journal.
My yoga teacher started Yoga Journal.
My yoga teacher invented yoga.
You know how it goes. It sounds–well, it is–a kind of competitive my-experience-is-so-good-you-can’t-even-imagine-it thing. You release a balloon of praise. I deflate yours and release a bigger one. You deflate mine and release a dirigible. I love it.
Why? Because underneath, we’re all saying, I adore my experience of yoga, it’s so good it’s indescribable, and the only way I can begin to give it to you is by telling you my teacher is the best. Isn’t that sweet and generous in the best little-kid way?
Next time someone says to me, Oh, god, my teacher became an Olympic rower after winning the Nobel Prize for Literature In Hieroglyphic Poetry while running a four star restaurant in Machu Picchu, I’m going to say: You have the Best Yoga Teacher in the Universe. You do. And we should all be in your class, having the incredible time you’re having. Thanks for giving me all of that.
Thanks to our teachers. We love you so much that we go to extraordinary lengths to deify you and everything you’re giving us. And thanks to all of us for loving yoga so much.
Thanks to you for the conversation. You’re the best. The absolute best. You’re amazing. You’re Blazingly, Supergenetically, Extraterrestrially Amazing,
kristin
Dr. Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (About All Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. Join her on the web, on Facebook, and on Twitter, and on iTunes.