I love delicious serendipities. For instance yesterday, one of the group of people I usually refer to as "my very great teachers" just happened to tune in here. She read the last post about storytelling. It's just perfect because she is the great teacher who introduced me to the idea of sacred drama in the first place, many years ago. She doesn't always come to see what I've written as she is a university professor, mom, married person and keeper of Very Energetic Dogs, so she really hasn't a lot of spare time. Still, something inspired her to come have a look. That makes me smile.
Great teachers are rare; I'm talking about the people who know what they're talking about, have a certain flair for dramatic presentation and some kind of odd, nerdish charisma that creates an atmosphere in which students actually want to pay attention. Really great teachers become excited when they see lightbulbs above their students' heads. They are able to magnify their excitement until it fills the room.
Today I'm wondering about the people who eschew good teachers, who want to learn everything themselves (for reasons I can't comprehend - is it necessary to reinvent the wheel?). Likewise I'm wondering about those whose arrogance prevents them from admitting how wonderful it is to be a student. What is up with that? I don't get it, but I wouldn't, would I?
I am in awe of my great teachers, all of them. That includes Jake, who was a formidable teacher in so many ways, the human teachers from whom I've learned so much, also my spirit guides who never steer me in the wrong direction (though sometimes I don't listen to them) and the weather, which always explains everything. For instance, today it's sunny and sparkling after a heavy rain last night. The high today will be close to 60. You'd better believe I'll be out there, walking around, taking pictures - and no doubt learning something or another. Oh yeah.
In the meantime, here is one of my favorite poems. I post it regularly here because it is absolutely true. Have a wonderful Thursday. Shalom.
GRATITUDE TO OLD TEACHERS
When we stride or stroll across the frozen lake,
We place our feet where they have never been.
We walk upon the unwalked. But we are uneasy.
Who is down there but our old teachers?
Water that once could take no human weight-
We were students then - holds up our feet,
And goes on ahead of us for a mile.
Beneath us the teachers, and around us the stillness.