Ankur Ganguli
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Elizabeth – thanks so much for naming the tension of goals & outcomes. I have always been extremely goal oriented and find that visualizing tangible outcomes motivates and drives me. I am finding myself loosening my grip on this through the experience of this training. And i feel letting go of that itself is a practice for life … it will take me a long time to come to terms with it and make it my default setting!
Rosie, I resonate a lot with your comparison, i have similar feelings to when i first took on a leadership role and started coaching others in their own growth and development. it took time, commitment, humility and trust in the process to grow confidence over time. and most of all, it helps to remember that teaching/coaching anything is not a one way process – transmission depends on the openness and trust of the receiver. thanks for your pointers.
I have two distinct experiences to relate from the OHP meditation teacher training program, while practicing giving instruction with fellow participants. In one instance, I was very distracted by my own overwhelming thoughts and feelings that I carried into the session. I was so distraught that I thought of begging out of having to instruct and explain my state of mind. However, I remembered Susan’s teachings about simplicity being key while instructing, and that gave me courage and I went ahead with offering the simplest instruction for mindfulness of body, breath and mind. Getting through the 10min session was hard for me, but every time I felt the waves of emotions crashing on me, I repeated the instruction and felt steady. An image, of a small boat held by an anchor, rose to mind. I realized that is the power of simplicity of instruction and the teachings transmitted through our lineage. I was able to pull through the 10min session and I myself felt more settled afterwards. I will reflect back to this experience in future if/when I feel challenged or apprehensive about teaching in future.
The other experience of note is when my fellow participant, who I was giving instructions to, was experiencing some physical distress during the session. I found myself conflicted about whether to stop the session so they can take care of themselves or ignore the obvious distress and stick to my practiced lines – I found myself distressing over what is the “right thing to do” in this situation. I wanted to “do the meditation right” and I also wanted to “help my fellow participant”. The latter instinct won, and I found myself gently cueing to accept whatever is happening and attend to the body while maintaining and guiding the attention back to the breath – its all part of meditation. Something shifted – I felt a deep connection with the student and the process and the space between us felt sacred. I do not recall the exact words of my instruction after this – it somehow happened on its own. As if the teaching was flowing through me and I was just there to hold the space. It was a profound experience, and I feel humbled by it. I do not know what caused this or whether this experience will repeat itself – but I do know now that in order to teach meditation, I need to get out of my own way – set aside the self-doubt, the striving to get it right and to intellectualize and problem solve in the middle of a session.
I joined the meditation teacher training to deepen my own practice as it has been a refuge through a lot of turmoil in my life currently. I did not intend to teach. I thought, who am I to be a meditation teacher – I can hardly hold my own mind together. Through this experience though, I have started thinking, who am I to NOT be a meditation teacher. I am but a link in a long lineage to have the privilege to transmit the teachings for the benefit of others. So if the opportunity arises, whether I feel ready or not, I am committed to show up with sincerity and put my trust in the teachings and the lineage.
Lauren – your words “its honest and respectful to be serious and clear about the money” really made an impact. The possibility had not occurred to me that someone in financially challenged condition might find it disrespectful or condescending to be offered something for free. This truly is a delicate dance.
Hi Mary – I really love your reminder that the concepts of money and value are linked in our minds. Specially in the western culture the aphorism “you get what you pay for” is so often used to set that expectation. A prospective student may not value the engagement if it were “just free”.
I live by the simple philosophy of “put your own oxygen mask first”. I apply it to almost all aspects of my life, including money. This is not to give myself permission to be greedy or selfish, but to acknowledge that if I cannot sustain myself, I cannot help anyone else. I expect and respect others to make this call for themselves.
When I participate in yoga/meditation classes and retreats – I prefer when the fee structure is clear. I do appreciate it when there are scholarships or sliding scales available for those in need. For donation-based classes, I find it very helpful when there is some suggestion for amount or range. It takes the awkwardness and guess work out.
I am an immigrant and despite living in US for many years, I still find cultural norms very confusing, and they make me feel out of place. Talking about, or not talking about, money is a very strong cultural norm. Growing up in India, money was tight and so we talked about it upfront and cleared the air on expectations. Many relationships went haywire due to money-matters, and I have simply learned it as a “hygiene” to be very clear about this aspect. I do not judge others who do the same, instead I appreciate them.
I do understand that this is a deeply personal matter and others may choose not to charge money for meditation teaching. I respect that too. However, I request you to be clear about that in your communication to prospective students too. It will immensely help those who find ourselves challenged by cultural and social norms. Clear is kind.
Djuna – i admire your frankness in relating the not-ideal situations. I have had bad experiences with punitive and controlling teachers and bosses and it really hinders personal growth or any progress. Also, i resonate with your point that group camaraderie can be very supportive for collective learning. At the very least we need to ensure that there are clear guidelines for group interactions even when people are not familiar with each other – some guidelines i have appreciated during meditation classes or retreats are around keeping personal space organized, switching off phones, quietly taking leave during walking meditation session if one has to leave. Thank you for pointing to this important aspect of holding learning environment for a group.
hi Ana – i love the specifics and details you shared. I also like your pointer about good learning environment and being a hospitable host – there definitely are some overlaps in offering a supportive environment. However, you got me thinking that there are difference too – as a host i feel “responsible” for the guests having a good time and also, as a host i can choose the guest list and invite them in. As a meditation teacher, the student has to ask to receive the teachings and we can only help them in their discovery process. Thank you for providing this lens that we can examine through to create the ideal environment for the setting.
The ideal learning environment I encountered was during a meditation retreat in fall 2021, led by Gaylon Ferguson at the Drala Mountain Center (DMC, then Shambhala). This was my first foray into meditation — until then, I’d considered myself incapable of sitting still or meditating. In fact, I prided myself on my endless store of restless energy, believing it fueled my “productivity” and “success” – outwardly that theory seemed to hold.
But, my life was getting increasingly complex and unmanageable and I was finding more and more unwholesome means to “keep pushing through”. When my motivation lagged, I relied on anger to push myself forward, which left me feeling burned out. Eventually, this caught up with me: I stopped sleeping, was diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and faced a choice between medication, meditation, or both. That’s when I stumbled into the DMC retreat. It changed my life.
I share these personal details because they reflect the jumbled state of mind I brought to the retreat. I had no expectations or understanding of what I would experience. I simply showed up and fell into the healing environment of DMC and the expert guidance of the teachers and every little detail that went into that retreat that I did not have the capacity to appreciate at the time.
Looking back, certain moments stand out: quietly crying on the cushion, walking to the stupa, the group silently watching the sunrise together, feeling the cold morning air, and experiencing deep, restful sleep—without nightmares, restlessness, or medication. For the first time in ages, I slept soundly and woke up naturally. What I remember most is the unraveling I felt at the end of the retreat – I can’t go back. And the realization that I didn’t have to – what I had learned, I could carry with me.I realize I haven’t shared much about the environment, teaching methods, or specific details that made this setting ideal. Perhaps, though, that’s the key: an ideal learning environment is almost invisible, offering each person just the right amount of support and gently holding them in a space where genuine discovery can unfold. It takes great skill and precision on the part of the teacher and environment—and for me, DMC provided exactly that. Since then, I’ve returned every year, and often revisit the experience in my imagination; it remains my refuge.
In contrast, the less-than-ideal environment I experienced was in another retreat a year prior. In fall of 2020, I purchased a “yoga-hiking-wellness retreat” package online. The retreat was everything the brochure said – but nothing more. It was a mash up of disparate activities and people and their preferences – no cohesiveness. It was not a container for the collective gathering. It was logistics for the individuals who happened to be sharing an itinerary. All I remember from that retreat is – sitting in hot tub, drinking a lot of wine, and chatting up snooty people. I never went back.
I have had similar experiences as a leader coaching and managing team members. Big part of my job is to guide and orient employees towards discovering their own strengths and weaknesses and using that understanding to navigate the workplace effectively. Much like the charter for a meditation teacher – I cannot “teach” people their own strengths and weaknesses – they must discover those on their own. As a coach and a leader, I create the space for inquiry and self-exploration and encourage them to dig deeper into their own potential and development. In this capacity, I have dealt with the dance of staying connected but separate from the employees to enable them to stay true to themselves vs “producing” answers, they think, I might prefer or something that can get them a promotion or a desired project assignment. In this dance, I also have to manage the fear of judgement or poor evaluation as people open to vulnerability of exposing their weaknesses so they can get the right support to develop those skills and competencies.
I have always leaned on discipline & exertion as strengths to find my way through life. Born in a rural setting in conservative part of India, I found that, the world wasn’t organized to my advantage. I faced huge barriers to my growth, freedom and just my way of being in the world that did not seem to fit the norm. So, I poured myself into working harder and harder to find my way out of there. It worked and it became the “formula” for success in life. No goal too difficult to achieve, no mountain too high to climb, no barrier I couldn’t crash through with single minded focus and relentless effort. I can frankly say that, I have accomplished everything I dreamed of and more … and yet, here I am, seeking refuge in the buddha, seeking solace in this sangha and still trying to find my way …. to what? What brought me here?
As I reflect back on my journey, I realize, I did not understand the true meaning of discipline and exertion and definitely lacked the balancing spaciousness of generosity and patience in my bearing. My approach to discipline was harsh and unrelenting. I tough-talked myself to do more and be more. I berated myself if I felt tired and couldn’t stay awake late into the night studying, after whole day of school and house chores. I worked hard until all joy leaked out of the very tasks I had once enjoyed. I became depleted and burnt out until I stumbled into the buddhist path where self-compassion and loving kindness are the foundation for being. These were the qualities I had once considered a sign of weakness. I am finding my way back into these very paramitas that I feel most connected to by incorporating the tenderness I lost. I am connecting with discipline of self-care and of caring for others around me. And ensuring exertion on tasks that bring joy not just mindless hard work. Patience and generosity still seem too far away for me – but I am finding my way one step at a time.
I could not join the class as I was away to attend to my ailing mom. So instead of offering instruction to another participant, I chose to offer instruction to my mom as she was open and available. My mom has been practicing meditation for a few years now, however with the tradition of eyes closed and mantras. This was different, I explained briefly, and was delighted to see that she was curious and open to trying it out. So, we began.
The beginning felt natural as I moved through the instructions for posture, taking care to elaborate more on the eyes open, gaze soft and resting on a spot few feet ahead on the ground. I noticed her “efforting” to adjust to eyes open method. Then I moved to instruction on the mindfulness of breath and she seemed to settle – this was familiar territory for her. What came next, caught me off guard and heavily tested my fledgling teaching skills. As I progressed to instructing on mindfulness of mind – I noticed my own mind swirling in an outpouring of love for my mother, her frailty and yet her courage and openness to help me in my meditation teacher training process, when I thought I was there to help her. All this passed through my mind in a flash and I struggled to stay with the breath. The next part of the instruction – to notice when we are caught in thoughts and to let go and come back to the breath – was directed as much towards myself as her.
This experience of being the instructor, the instructed and the observer simultaneously felt somewhat disorienting. This dance of being in the moment, with the student, separated yet together in the same space was mysterious to say the least. I look forward to how this experience evolves as I practice giving instruction more and more.
Growing up, my mom would often call me “Jhansi Ki Rani”, Queen of Jhansi. I heard that so many times that her voice rings unbidden into my mind whenever I am faced with challenges or riddled with self-doubt. The Queen of Jhansi was a brave queen who fought against the colonial forces and died protecting her people, her country, her lineage. The songs of her courage, her sacrifice are sung and passed down from generation to generation invoking reverence for her strength and reminding us that we all possess this capacity too. These are the songs of my childhood – the fierce feminine, the warrior queen.
My early childhood was spent in the jungle – the mountains, the rivers, the waterfalls, the wild animals and stories of Mowgli, set in that very same landscape, memorialized into lore and legends. I was born in that jungle and my spirit never left. Thousands of miles and decades later, I still reach for it, within me, around me, letting mother nature cradle me, and breathe life into the wilderness that is my roots.
Dadi and Babuji, my grandparents, raised me. They raised me the way they raised their own children in the post-colonial era, lifting the family out of extreme poverty through strict discipline, a sense of personal responsibility and keen focus on securing the best education possible. Hardwork, integrity and education were the non-negotiables. Dadi and Babuji’s picture on my desk reminds me everyday that this is the ground I must walk on.
Lineage, is a line that runs, through us, across the ages and connects us to what came before us, and if we are worthy, passes through us to what comes after us. It is like the string that passes through the pearls, weaving them together into an ornament. A pearl cannot ‘see’ the string, yet senses its mysterious presence in its core, as something that holds it, something that helps it find its place in the order of things; keeping it from getting scattered and lost. That, to me, is Lineage.
Your essay really resonated with me. You perfectly captured the feeling of bouncing from one thing to another desperately wanting to hold on to some belief system that would help us make sense of all that comes our way in life and somehow make it easier to navigate. I am reconciling to the “groundlessness” myself and knowing that this is the truth somehow gives me courage and confidence that i am not “doing life all wrong”. Thank you for putting words to this sentiment.
