True Nature

 I was invited to teach yoga/meditation and an intention to some high schoolers in a school by a student that I practice with at my studio the other day. I have forgotten how inspiring such an exchange is. 

I was reflecting on one of the intentions that I’ve worked with teens on and that is, living your truth, your true nature. How do we really live our lives—like we see ourselves, or like others see us. If we were to describe ourselves, do we see ourselves really as we are or do we see ourselves through the eyes of what others see. 

Which is more true? 

I’ve learned through experience that it’s a challenge to live what others expect of you, because that involves taking into account all of their past experiences that brought them to where they are today. However, it can be more of a challenge living your own truth. Isn’t it easier to please others. Does this lead to surpassing expectations, letting people down? Perhaps sometimes one, sometimes another, and sometimes a little of both. But the important thing is, that the only way to be true to others, is to be true to yourself. 

I even think of myself as a yoga teacher. How I should follow the expectations of what a yoga teacher is meant to be. I don’t want to let my students down. But wait a second here. Isn’t that exactly the point? That no one, not even the students that I learn from every day, that I honor and care about, are allowed to paint me into a certain character in a book. Onto a canvas the way they want me to be.

I once spoke with a teacher/friend about trees. About really appreciating a tree for what it is. Even if you don’t know what kind of tree it is, what it’s label is, what color you expect its leaves to turn, how you expect it to pop new bright green leaves and shade you in the summer. Even if you don’t know all this stuff going into (the woods), you’ll still get it. There’s more of this convo that I’ll share at another time.

And that made me feel good somehow. That the simplicity of nature is something to learn from. Taking it a step further, and this is really what made me feel happy, is that a tree is good to go being a tree that way it was meant to be. Doesn’t matter who wants it to sprout leaves in the spring. To let them go flying in the wind mid October. Who or what expects shade, or apples or a nice soft bark to lean against when you’re needing a place to rest your weary head. The tree is the tree is was sprouted to be. And no matter how disappointing it is, this one grows green needles, keeps them all year, doesn’t do much in the line of bearing fruit, isn’t flashy and colorful in the fall. But it’s a great place to sit under, to take cover, and it stays green all year round. Plus it’s a great resting spot for fireflies. 

So,while some people are trying hard not to eat gluten and stay away from sugar (okay, I haven’t eaten bread in a few months) my goals is to be more like the tree. The concept—that I can only be what I was sprouted to be. My goal? To not pretend to be anthing  more, or less, or different,  than that. And although I’ll disappoint those who like to make leaf piles in the fall, hopefully some will appreciate the evergreen needles. And the sparks of firefly light seen through the branches on a warm summer night. 

This takes fortitude. The lines can be blurry. People can argue that you should always think of others first, and on and on. Look deeper. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m simply saying I’ve visited a place that begs for each tree to grow into what its nature was meant to be. 

And happily ever after

, the story goes, grew a beautiful forest.