My Yoga Instructor Leaves

This is how I always think of my instructor: shining and sparkling on Rodeo Drive. Parsvakonasana (side angle pose) is one of her specialties - and now, by extension - one of mine.


One time, my yoga instructor approached me prior to class, and whispered urgently:

"ROBERT! Oh my god! I accidentally put on my pants inside out! I have no pockets! What am I going to do?!"

And then she flapped the fabric of her inverted pockets at me, and I laughed out loud.

That's my instructor for you. She is always - utterly and uniquely - herself. She has a simultaneously funny and intense way of galvanizing an entire room with her presence, inspiring to people to reach, to push, to try.

Her business card says, "Yoga Instructor", but what it really should say is, "Furnace". When she is teaching, she is so enthusiastic and passionate, the entire studio - a room the size of a basketball court - fills with her boundless energy. She stands there and just RADIATES, generating heat for all to absorb. Her students, including myself, are warmed by her presence, and exit the studio ready for the cold.

My yoga instructor left two months ago for a somewhat unexpected hiatus in Arizona. During that time, I've been dutifully practicing, hoping to master crow pose by the time she returned. And just recently, I got the hang of it - meaning that I had mastered the entirety of my instructor's move set.

I had learned just about everything she had to teach me.

And that's precisely when I learned that she would not be return to the studio, hearing the word from the yoga studio employees.

During my last class with her, I suspected that something was up. She was emotional to the point of tears, and made a point of making me demonstrate a handstand for the class, which was an ongoing tradition between the two of us. At the end, she demanded a hug from me, and squeezed me so hard that the buckle of my bag dug deep into my chest, causing me no small amount of pain. All I could think of during the hug was:

"This woman is so strong, she could end my life right now, if she wanted to."

And then:

"That is so hot."

But I was happy that she was moving on, because I knew she would do just fine in whatever life she chose for herself. And I was right; within a month of leaving the studio to go on hiatus, she a) fell in love, b) found a new job, and c) decided to move across the country.

Many words have been written on this blog about seizing one's destiny, but she is one of those who has never needed to read any of them. Indeed, I think she and I are kindred spirits - which is precisely why I found myself taking her class to begin with.

Now I am rotating among several different instructors, many of whom recognize me as my instructor's most devoted pupil and assume that I am in mourning. If I am mourning, I'm not the only one - every classmate of mine whom I've informed of the news has reacted as if someone in their immediate family died. My practice is definitely not the same. If if hadn't been for my instructor, I would never have made it to three hundred yoga classes. Not even close.

So what's next?

My instructor is a member of a particular ninja clan called Anusara Yoga (as opposed to rival clans Hatha and Iyengar and Bikram), and there is another ninja at my studio who was trained by the same master. In fact, the two instructors are good friends, and the other has been patiently keeping an eye on me, waiting for me to step into her dojo. You see, this new instructor is twice as difficult and advanced as my instructor. She subbed a level one class I took once, and it was easily the most difficult level one I've ever taken. The new one returns from HER hiatus in January, ready to introduce me to my new pain threshold.

I'd also like to make a metaphysical point about the departure of my instructor. I believe that when a significant presence in your life departs, it is to make room for a new presence. This has been true time and time again, especially with every figure who has ever taught me a valuable life lesson. Granted, I have a new instructor arriving, but I don't think she's going to play the same role in my life - only one can be the first, after all.

So the question is: who will this new presence be, and what will be their purpose?