A Memorable Teacher

Since this month's For You, By You column is A Most Memorable Teacher, I thought I'd use this space to talk about one of mine. There have been a few teachers in my life that have made a difference -- but this is about the first of them.

My last semester of high school took place at Van Nuys High in the San Fernando Valley. I was seventeen years old and had started doing hatha yoga the year before.

She was sixteen, and wise way beyond her years. She somehow recognized a kindred spirit and struck up a conversation. I once asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she answered, "A saint." Years later, I realized that her martyrdom had been growing up in her abusive family

Much of what she taught me took years to assimilate and the few months I knew her were all too brief. "To love is to hold tightly in an open hand" was a bitter lesson, and when I walked away from her on a beach on Molokai, I never saw her again. It was she who gave me my first copy of the Tao Te Ching. As I sat on the floor and frustratedly waved my right hand back and forth trying to figure out just what in the hell the sound of one hand clapping could be, she laughed gently and said, "Listen."

"When you realize you don't know anything is when you start to know something." "Those who tell, don't know. Those who know, don't tell." These are just some of the things I first heard from her. I thought she was my girlfriend but really, she was my teacher and my first fellow seeker on the path. Almost thirty years later, I can't look at a full moon and not be reminded of her.

Much has happened since that time. Teachers and teachings have come and gone. But she remains one of the best friends I've ever had -- and if she should happen upon this column, I'd love to hear from her.

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