Can I tell you a story? It is not a meditation but it involves a meditation teacher.
Be a good girl, that's me. Unless you choose to be a bad girl and I don't want to slip into that role. That's not where your heart leads you.
Anyway I'm not a girl any more wanting to be liked, trying to be nice. I am 55 years old and I need to tell you this story. Some of you I am sure will have much worse stories to tell. Tell them.
I had been practicing yoga and meditating at home for
10 years and my 50th birthday was coming up. My children were growing up and I wanted to do something special with my life, something that would help others. It was strong in me this wanting. Even though I imagined all these young, beautiful, flexible girls
on the course. It didn't stop me training to be a yoga teacher.
I was really looking forward to listening and learning from the meditation and philosophy teacher.
But he was not what I expected, despite his orange robes.
He was not what
I had hoped for.
He was another lesson.
He was someone I usually try my hardest to avoid.
Our sunrise meditation sitting on the beach at Byron, the sun 5 minutes from rising over the lighthouse and our 30 minutes were up.
stay and watch?" I asked.
"No, we haven't got time, but we have time to pick up take away cappuccino before heading back." He didn't say it was a special treat but it sounded like it.
I have never before felt that something was coming,
something challenging that I couldn't avoid. Every time I stepped outside the butcherbirds started singing. I felt they were supporting me but also warning me...does this sound strange to you? It felt strange to me.
I watched him with those lovely girls
and I didn't like what I saw.
I fell asleep exhausted by the pool one afternoon and didn't hear the insistent ring of his bell. I was late for class, then I needed the loo, something was said when I was gone and two other girls got up and walked out
to prove a point.
Finally our last afternoon, our last assessment, yoga philosophy.
I arrived early, my mind was numb but I believed wholeheartedly in the moral codes of yoga, in fact they had made me even more sure that yoga was what I
should be teaching. We sat in a circle, the stop watch was pressed, your turn first, me! Talk about truthfulness for 3 minutes. I could have told the truth about this circle, the stop watch, the attitude. I couldn't think of anything to say. Around the group
everyone spoke, everyone passed and finally back to me. All I could say was it was important to tell the truth. I felt humiliated when he said I had failed. Did that mean I had failed the whole course? The worst thing that could have happened did. I started
The class then erupted.....their support was amazing.
"Come and talk to me after lunch" He said.
"What do you want me to do, pass you?" He demanded.
"Yes." I said and everyone chorused yes.
retreated to a quiet place in the garden instead of lunch and a yoga friend found me there and offered her support.
Why the meditation teacher walked passed this out of the way spot I don't know.
He began to talk about my failings, my silence.
He was shocked when I shouted. "How dare you! I am 50 years old, I am on a yoga teacher training and I still hear those sort of comments from a meditation teacher"
"Make sure you wear your sexy yoga gear, I am teaching tomorrow mornings class." It
wasn't directed at me of course but he had said it to one of the girls in front of all of us in that circle.
"It was a joke." he said. " No longer lost for words. I shouted at him
I didn't go to his class the next morning but I was in the
I should have spoken up.
Share you stories.
Speak up strong women.