I run a yoga teacher certification program -- an amazing program if I do say so myself -- which includes several books the attendees must read throughout the 6 month program. One of the first books we read together is called, After the Ecstasy, the Laundry. I highly recommend it. Written by Jack Kornfield, this is not technically a "yoga book." (In fact, most of the books I use for the teacher training program are not technically yoga books.) Jack Kornfield is a Buddhist, from the Theravada Buddhist tradition.To describe what the book is about I quote from a description on Amazon:
"Jack Kornfield, one of America's most beloved teachers of meditation, assures us that enlightenment does occur on the spiritual path but warns that it is not the end of the road. Genuine experiences of awakening, despair, fault, serious transgression, and simple childlike joy all appear as bridges on the way to the divine. . . . Few books in recent memory deal practically with the rather unspectacular but necessary nature of day-to-day practice following an experience of spiritual opening."
One of the main reasons I use this book is the chapter entitled "The Dirty Laundry." In it, Kornfield reminds us that with a feeling of enlightenment can come another feeling: that somehow you now "know" more and "are" more than others. Once you have this view of yourself you start to believe that rules don't apply to you; that somehow these laws, ethical guidelines, and common rules of courtesy are beneath you now.
In the yoga teaching arena this can translate into, at the very least, some actions you may look back on (once you get over yourself) with a laugh, a shake of your head, and a big sigh of gratitude that you woke up from the delusion. At its worst though, this "self-realization" becomes self aggrandizement, and lasts longer than is "funny." Because you don't ever really wake up from the delusion. You end up lost, leading people down a path that isn't serving them; it is only serving you.
I have experienced this from the student perspective, the teacher perspective, and from two other perspectives which I will write about in my book . . . much later!
When I was about two or three years into teaching, I fell into the trap of taking credit for the feeling people got after taking my classes. By the way, this is a common occurrence in about the third year of your teaching, because you have found your voice, have established a following, and have started to receive those seductive "you've changed my life" stories" from your students. My ego had me believing I had everything to do with their transformation. "They" became "my" students and instead of human beings, "my" students became objectified. "They" needed help and my yoga teaching "helped" them. Other people in my life were not good enough for the new enlightened me. "They" were dragging me down. I also had an inner competition going with other teachers and HAD to be the most popular. Had to prove that I helped people, more people, etc. All this came from taking credit for the gift that is Yoga.
Luckily "my students" were much more intelligent than I was. They saw right through the new "me" and stopped attending classes. The more I used flowery language, spoke with a soft singsongy voice, or "imparted wisdom" that I hadn't even experienced (let alone processed in my life) the less students I had. Thanks to the people who rejected me, I woke up from this delusion quickly. I laughed about it and moved forward, deciding to never forget this feeling of being incongruent with what I loved most about Yoga.
This is exactly what Jack Kornfield addresses in "The Dirty Laundry." The temptation to take credit for another person's journey. The seduction of believing that because you have experienced true enlightenment you are now above people who haven't felt what you have felt. And how challenging it is to break free of this delusion.
This happens because feeling like you are an untouchable enlightened being definitely feels better than feeling like a vulnerable human being. I am going to say this again --This happens because feeling like you are untouchable is better than admitting you are vulnerable. It still doesn't make it "right."
Taking credit for the LIGHT that really does move through you (and everyone else by the way) knocks you right off the pedestal. Check the Yoga sutras of Patanjali. Even they warn us against this temptation.
I will always acknowledge my teachers as those who re-introduced me to my own light. That tis one of the definitions of "guru. However, those teachers include my 10th grade English teacher, my political theory professor at CAL, many friends who daily go out and experience life courageously, and even my children. Yoga is but one way I have been able to reconnect to Self.
I also acknowledge and embrace the gift I get to give whenever I am privileged enough to remind people to breathe, find their bodies, and reconnect to Self. But I won't pretend that I am the all seeing, all knowing, all powerful Oz just because I remind people to inhale and exhale. Whatever happens in your practice, on your mat, in your body, is because YOU showed up for your Self. The credit goes to YOU.