Authentic vs. Posturing

There’s an easy way to tell if someone is authentic or full of it. When they’re threatened by every little other person, place or thing, that’s a pretty big clue that they’re talking but not walking it.

I’ll use as example today’s yoga world – and I’m not mentioning any names. But there are studios where teachers who trained in a variety of places, with a wonderful array of backgrounds and perspectives and talents, all come to teach in their own way.

The owner of a studio like that doesn’t micro-manage or try to make everyone the same. The owner of such a studio embraces the beauty and godliness in each and every one and celebrates the rich diversity of approach the studio has to offer.

In contrast, a studio that insists all teachers must take their very own training, regardless of whether they’ve trained – somewhat extensively – elsewhere, that’s a sign that they’re not quite secure or confident in their approach.

You see, when you know who you are and you’re comfortable in that space, you don’t need to control the world. You don’t need to control anyone. You just surrender to what is.

It happens everywhere. A guy moves from one state to another, trained and ready to teach, but every studio he approaches says, “Well, first you have to complete OUR training, then we’ll hire you.” Hmmm…no thanks.

I’d rather be part of a community where difference is celebrated. My kids’ school is like that. Religion, race, ethnicity, socioeconomic – it’s all good. Literally. Their curriculum looks for the common points between people and teaches students that these are the things to concentrate on – not the ways in which we diverge.

That’s the kind of world I want to be part of. Nothing short of acceptance, beautiful and supreme security. I’ve got no time for the pettiness.

What’s on tap for today: a game of early-morning tennis followed by my eldest son learning meditation followed by a welcoming meeting for a new client, then 5-6 hours of office work. The day will end with a Mediabistro party at La Dolce Vita. It’s all good. It’s all good.

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