“You haven’t changed.”
… is what my teacher, Dharma Mittra, said to me after class. It was the first class I had taken with him in almost 7 years.
True to form, I accidentally, awkwardly blurted right over his words, “I moved out of the city.” My statement was trying to ease guilt for not having been to class for so many years.
Don’t get me wrong, I have most definitely been practicing my asana, pranayama and meditation, in fact, I have even been more dedicated and consistent at all the techniques than I was seven years ago. It’s just that I have been practicing mostly on my own, not at my teacher’s yoga studio, and not even online with him. I had left his community, and I’m not entirely sure why. I suppose 1 or 2 of those years were due to the pandemic. But, the rest was simply me retreating.
The word retreat gets tossed around in yoga circles as something to aspire to – go on a yoga retreat somewhere, and you are promised a relaxing, nurturing, healing and restorative break. Retreats seem to offer more than vacations. A vacation allows you to rest and forget your daily routine and stresses; a retreat allows you to hide from the world so that you can heal from the damage and pain daily life inflicts on you. Retreats arouse profound, transformational, ideally permanent lasting changes.
Retreat is also what an army does when it’s losing a battle.
Seven years is the average amount of time for your body’s cells to regenerate. (Keep in mind that some cells only take a few weeks, some take up to 15 years, and some never regenerate.)1 And, the stages of human development run in cycles of 7 years – one year for each of our 7 main chakras (energy centers which are also connected to specific life themes).2 Seven years is enough time for a person’s body and mind to be almost completely reborn. I, like most everyone, have been through a lot of ups and downs over the past 7 years. And as a result, I look in the mirror and see an entirely different person. My body feels less strong, less fluid, less energetic; it feels… older. I have definitely changed.
As usual with words spoken by someone so highly revered, so much meaning can be drawn.
What was Dharma seeing in me/about me that inspired him to say I haven’t changed? Does not changing mean my persistent practice has kept old age at bay? (That would be a plus.) Does it mean I haven’t actually progressed, despite my attempts and devotion? (That would be a minus.) Was the statement made simply because it was all he could think to say at a moment when social protocols demanded something be uttered? (That would be a neutral.)
Some time ago, I attended my 20 year high school reunion. There were several people at the reunion who I was excited to see again, people I would have liked to keep in touch with, but didn’t. Because back then, staying in touch meant constantly hand writing letters, a time-consuming process. Back in those days, one could easily disappear from social networks, sometimes without even trying.
Quite obviously, 20 years is a long time. Many of my classmates had gained a lot of weight. Some had lost a lot of hair. Almost everyone had accumulated a few wrinkles. Some people I remembered in name only, their adult selves not matching the teenager I remembered. Some people’s personalities had become more exaggerated, others had mellowed. And then there were those few individuals, people whom I had actually been very close with in school but for some reason lost touch with over the years, who had not changed at all. Externally, of course they had grown older. But, my mind didn’t prioritize their looks in my memory, it prioritized their essence, their soul. And, since their most inner self had remained as pure as I remembered, my mind didn’t recognize any changes. It was as if no time had passed for those people.
The meaning of Namaste…
The practice of yoga is a practice of ignoring the transient and the impermanent, and engaging with the immortal part of oneself and others. It is at the root of the word, namaste, which loosely translates to, the light in me recognizes the light in you. Focus on the immortal, and time becomes irrelevant. My teacher is a profoundly spiritual person; as far as I can tell, he lives his life from this perspective. Perhaps that is what he meant when he told me, “You haven’t changed.” He sees me as he has always seen me – he acknowledges and relates to my soul.
One doesn’t learn discipline until one becomes one’s own guide. Perhaps the long time away from Dharma’s community allowed me to (physically and mentally) process and adopt vital life lessons. At the same time, one never stops benefitting from an outside eye for guidance. It’s good to know I can still learn from my teacher, and gain from his words of wisdom.
I’m happy that some things never change.
1 https://www.questdiagnostics.com/patients/blog/articles/do-my-cells-really-change-every-7-years
2 Shalila Sharamon and Bodo J. Baginski, The Chakra Handbook (Federal Republic of Germany: Schneelöwe Verlagsberatung, 1988) pages 30-31.
