Loss of a Community Member

Ambiguous loss is defined as a loss that never receives emotional closure. It is a loss that culture has no guidelines or conversations about. It can be a loss of a person, an event, a relationship, and more. The ambiguous loss that I’m discussing on the blog today is a person that was a core member of the yoga community of the East Bay. Her zest, wisdom, and courage will be greatly missed.

She was my teacher when I was just a baby yogi. I worked at YogaWorks in Walnut Creek and took her classes religiously. The way she showed up on the mat and her poised authenticity illuminated a path that I wanted to take, too. As a new yoga teacher, she embodied what it means to be a student-teacher. Her humility and humor created a comfortable atmosphere to explore the asanas.

I always try to call forth this teacher’s qualities in my own teaching journey. I recently heard a euphemism somewhere that said “What we teach is what we are meant to learn.” Even as an academic student, I constantly hear that the best way to learn something is to teach it to someone else. I held space for my Saturday morning class at Yoga Flow SF and brought up her passing. Students cried. I felt scared, stressed, and a little panicked. Could I trust myself to conduct a safe class in the midst of tragedy? Loss through the lens of community is not benign. I felt hard feelings wash over me.

I have been reflecting on what it means to be a funny, chill, and laid-back teacher, paired with elements of authenticity, courage, and vulnerability. The two sides to my personality and as a teacher are not in contradiction, but rather, are compliments to one another. I’m learning by teaching the yoga sutras and asanas by being a student. In the opening dharma talk, I tried to emulate her by saying, I don’t know what I’m doing or how I’m supposed to handle this, but I’ll walk through it with you.

The yoga practice is such a gift. She was a gift in my yoga journey, too. When we move, breathe, and flow, collective energy is created in the room. I felt her there. I want to build something that will outlive me. Letting her energy touch me through receiving her teachings, and passing my teachings on to the students in the room is that very legacy. She lives in the practice. I teach the practice. The practice will live on.