Another walk to the MB to teach yoga at my 11:30 Saturday class. Over three years now. With such a sad beginning. I miss Yolanda and think of her virtually every time I walk into the teaching room. To me it is her room - especially during that time slot. Hard not to compare myself. She was as close as one gets to the perfect yoga teacher: growing, absolutely committed to yoga, lovely, graceful, a student of the poses, fresh, loving, living in the moment, rhythmic, a dancer, strong, fierce, soft, gentle, wise, Wise. Her qualities go on and on. And so do her spirit and soul. It is as if she is still alive; so many of us who knew/know her feel this. Her presence is palpable, strong, she continues to teach and guide.
"Make it your own!" he exhorted me when I said I would hold the space for her. No! It was her immediate reaction. "You must make it your own!" No ego, no competition, no holding on. "Make it your own." And that is how I want to feel about the person who follows me. It want them to make it their own.
Perhaps by way of leaving feeling complete I am offering private teaching times to some of my students. Like my German student, I want them to go into the world without me with their questions asked and the poses that confound them worked on. If I stay, I know in a group setting more about their needs and practice.