I looked closely, surely I must be mistaken. Were those tears streaming down my instructor’s face? My distracting suspicion was confirmed when a fellow student piped up, “Karen are you crying?”. “Yes”, she replied. “My daughter’s pet died this morning, and she was really upset. It hurts to see my child feel such sadness.” Had she acted appropriately our teacher could have gotten a tissue, dried her eyes and we ‘d have moved on. Thankfully, she didn’t.
Instead our fearless leader asked, “If it’s alright with you I’m going to keep crying while I teach.” What could we say? The room, speechless and unsure, gradually nodded with approval. To our surprise however, the world continued to spin, and class went on. While eventually Karen’s tears lessened and stopped, our connection as a group without judgment was stronger than ever.
I can’t remember what yoga pose we did next or how stretched or not my muscles felt after that class. I can’t tell you the names of everyone in the room, or what month of the year it was. But I can tell you that this moment has inscribed it’s self into my memory, earning a well deserve spot on my list of watershed experiences. For on that day, unbeknownst to her, Karen had unleashed upon me a challenge: Do I have what it takes to really be me, even if I think it’s not what people want to see?
At a recent gathering of Workshop Presenters and Wellness Center Executives, we found ourselves discussing who has inspired us. After the group listed many talent psychologists, spiritual leaders, and authors we set out to discuss why these particular presenters kept us coming back for more. And the answer was unanimous – they were human.
These powerful leaders, like my instructor, were strong enough to expose the messy sides of themselves. They shared personal struggles, failures, and disappoints along side of their powerful successes and inspiration. They’ve shattered the pedestal we’d wanted to place them on, reminding us that while they are exceptional leaders, they have also made mistakes. Yes, even celebrities, world leaders, and dare I say Lady Gaga, have said the wrong thing at the wrong time or experienced challenging moments. They’ve dared to remove their public mask and let us see the broad spectrum of life experience that makes them human. Geez, I think we’ve all seen Oprah cry at least once on air. We can connect to their messy stories and be reminded that perhaps there is hope for us too. Not just despite, but because of my own messy moments, I too have much to offer the world.
It would have been easy for us to judge our instructor, Karen – I mean her students were paying money to learn how to stretch not to be bummed out, right? But in the face of such honesty and gentle grief, judgment took a quick backseat to compassion. Every one of us in that room had a moment where we’d lost the battle to hold back tears at an inconvenient time. (I’ve caught myself more than once tearing-up from a television commercial or next to the Cheerios in aisle 4). Rather than judging Karen, however, I felt permission to witness my own experience, noticing how I was really feeling that day. If Karen would give herself permission to be human, feeling the full range of emotions, even if that appeared messy, could I too? Could I lift the restrictive bars of self- judgment long enough to let my true emotions surface?
Sometimes the answer is still no. “Nope, not ready to tell my boss she’s crazy.” “Nah, I’d look nuts if I laughed out loud in line at the post office.” But sometimes – the answer is yes. Yes, I will speak my truth on this one. “The truth is that it doesn’t work for me when you run late to all of our appointments, can you be on time next week?” “I’m having a hard day, can you come over?” And those messy moments make it all worth it. When I know that the outcome may be a deeper connection with the person next to me, any nervousness of speaking my truth becomes a small price to pay.
Despite extensive training and technique, many clients have admitted that the reason they enjoyed a session with me is because I am so playfully human. This is the highest compliment, that my humanness has inspired them to also enjoy what makes them unique. And I must say, with permission to be a “C” student in the classroom of external appearance, I am having much more fun discovering daily my marvelously messy connection to those around me. Got messy?
Article as featured in Our Berkshire Green Magazine (Sept.-Dec. 2010)