Who Are Your Teachers?

Imagine with me, for a moment, that you and I are sitting around a fire pit on a clear night, watching the stars.

I ask you, “Who are your teachers?”

Who are the folks who have helped you experience life in a new way? Something in their message connected with something inside of you — their words, their presence, their care — in a particular time and place that resonated in a memorable way.

Is this person in your everyday life? Someone you knew for a season? Someone you read or listened to on a podcast? Someone from whom you learned by observation?

Was their instruction something you sought out or something you didn’t even know to look for?

Did you realize their impact immediately, or is it something that has grown in you over time?

Teachers Give Us Words For Our Experiences

I’d like to tell you about one of my teachers.

This guy is creative. He ruffles feathers. He laughs at himself, and he marvels at almost everything. His podcast has been one of the most influential pieces of media in my life, and I’ve also enjoyed his books and short films.

I’ve had a lot to unlearn (and learn) as I’ve grown into the person I’m becoming. This teacher invited me to ask questions. He modeled curiosity and the seasonal nature of life.

Institutions cautioned me against listening to this teacher. And while he has played an instrumental role in many of my friends’ journeys in one season or another, they don’t seem drawn to him quite like I am. I couldn’t put my finger on why his work impacted me so deeply.

Early in the pandemic, I moved stress through my body by taking walks in my neighborhood while listening to podcasts. Those episodes are surprisingly memorable to me.

As I rounded a bend near the Hazel Valley Elementary School, I heard Rev. Angel Kyodo Williams tell Carvell Wallace about the particular influence Mr. Rogers had on her.

“I think the power and the potency of him, like any true teacher of wisdom, is that he keeps talking to you each and every single time. He turned directly to the camera and he spoke to you. He spoke to me. That heldness. Especially for those of us who were made to feel as if society wasn’t constructed for our sense of belonging (unless we vied for that belonging or earned that belonging)… To have someone turn to you, directly you, and say:

‘Just as you are, you are loved. Just as you are, exactly as you are in this moment, not another moment, not a moment to come, not a promised moment…’”

What it generated for me was space. Space to be me. In fact, I didn’t think much about him. And I think that is the most profound love.

It didn’t make me think about him, and how I felt about him. It made me think of how I felt about me.”

Midwives to My Soul

“That’s it!” I exclaimed boldly to myself in the middle of the street — something in me shifted into greater spaciousness and there were tears in my eyes — Rev. Angel had precisely named my experience with this teacher.

Do you know that feeling — that felt sense? The moment you suddenly have words for something you hadn’t previously been able to name?

As I reflect on the teachers who have shaped me most significantly, I realize they all invited me — whether explicitly or in the way they uniquely inhabited their life and calling — to engage with my soul. They encouraged me to participate — to step into my particular role in the collective.

It seems that everywhere we turn, someone is trying to tell us exactly how to get from point A to point B. Where our problems will be in the rearview mirror. How things can be “all good.”

The teachers who I’ve been most drawn to haven’t given me formulas — they didn’t offer me “tips and tricks” to replicate. They showed up as themselves — evolving humans trying to hold onto hope and follow the thread of their souls — and invited me to do the same.

Over time, they have served as midwives to my soul in my process of learning and unlearning. They’ve offered me a vocabulary for the terrain of my inner landscape, normalized new ways of being, and aroused my imagination for possibilities I had no context for…

From Scarcity to Spaciousness

One year ago, I sat under some oak trees with Rob, the teacher I described above. We sat facing each other in the center of a circle in folding chairs — just three feet between us — surrounded by twenty-three other folks whose souls were also drawn to Ojai by Rob’s invitation.

I had considered attending his offerings in the past — to bring an area we were "stuck" or a question to explore — but every time a question came up, something in me said the timing was not right. "You don't need Rob for that." This would lead me more deeply into exploration and discernment.

Last summer, I felt a shift. I was ready to sign up for “2 Days in Ojai.” I realized these events are about being present with others on the path — witnessing each life — the connective tissue of Spirit between us. I was down for that.

I registered for the event, though I still didn't have clarity about what question to bring, and I had some fear about how I would show up. Somatically, this felt like constriction.

Here’s how I described my felt sense of this fear to Scott:

“It feels like I’m going on Shark Tank to try to win him over or convince him of my value.”

Naming this specific fear/scarcity I sensed helped me gently excavate the desire under my fear. The truth was, I didn't "need" Rob in the same way anymore, but I wanted to enjoy the time I’d have with him. I was sure a question would come to me in time.

From a trauma-informed perspective, I’ve spent a lot of my life in the fawn response around men in authority and teachers I admire. My body autonomically shifts into this survival strategy when it anticipates I may lose esteem or belonging. At some point, this adaptation kept me safe and relatively connected, but prevented me from enjoying that connection because I was trying to be what I thought that man wanted me to be — I was fitting in instead of belonging. My body hadn’t caught up to the reality that I am safe now…

True belonging is an inside job.

As I watched Rob’s presence with each person who sat across from him in the center of our circle on that first day, it was clear to me that he is exactly who I sensed he was (except taller!). He embodied a deep reverence for the humanity of each person who sat in front of him. There was no hint of superiority or condescension.

Before we broke for lunch on the second day, I volunteered to take my turn first in the afternoon session.

You Are Safe, You Are Loved, You Are Wise

During this hour, I returned to the Airbnb where I scanned the pages of my journal. Adrenaline surged in me and desperation was rising as, still, no question came.

I laid down on the couch for a 25-minute guided Savasana (a practice of restorative yoga), which calmed my nervous system and allowed me to come home to the inner ground — the place where I feel connected to my deepest Self and God — and to perceive the thread of Love that connects me to others’ humanity. I was reminded that Rob is human, and putting him on a pedestal is dehumanizing him.

With the words, “You are safe, you are loved, you are wise,” resonating in me, I arose with clarity.

My deepest desire was to be present.
It was time for me to “fall fearless into Love” — my favorite definition of surrender.

There were synchronous reminders all around me — this song popped up on my Spotify Discover Weekly, this sign next to the door that caught my eye for the first time as I prepared to return to the Ojai Art Center, even the Airbnb keychain — all signs pointing me to rest in the rightness of it all.

Falling Fearless Into Love

On my way to the Ojai Art Center, I asked my “parts” if they would be willing to step back and let me lead. I had tears in my eyes as we parked and headed back in to join the circle, but I was no longer grasping for a question.

I suggested we begin our conversation by talking about one of three topics: my favorite TV show Better Things, moral injury, or what makes a good teacher. We started with Better Things.

Over the next 25 minutes, we talked about getting free, the creative energy that was moving in me, what my experience of Better Things might say about what matters to me and how I’m being invited to participate, and the role of a pastor/teacher/village elder.

Early on in our conversation, Rob observed, "So, you're not stuck?" I said, "Nope!" He seemed amused by this.

There was a mutuality — a common delight in the experience of finding freedom and moving with the energy of Spirit on this wild ride of participation — following the thread of our souls.

Later, he checked in again, "So, you don't have a question?"

I said, "No. You don't have anything I don't have. All of this is payoff*.”“I'm here to enjoy the space between us."

What Wisdom is In Those Tears?

For several weeks, every single time I reflected on the trip to Ojai, I cried.

These were tears that connected me to a wordless place in my depths. My body knew something that was not yet available to my mind.

“What wisdom is in those tears?” asked the teacher I apprenticed with last year, in a session neither of us will ever forget.

If you know me at all, you know that I’m rarely speechless. But in that moment, I closed my eyes and wordlessly felt into the unclear edge, the implicit wisdom of my body.

I was embodied in Ojai. I was 100% me, exquisitely present. It felt so good not to strive for validation — to expand instead of shrinking — to drop fully into the moment without the fear of rejection. While conversing with Rob was a sweet, sweet gift that I savored, I think I met myself there in a new way.

Beauty is About More Rounded, Substantial Becoming

Shortly after the event, I rediscovered a John O’Donohue quote, that offered words for my experience.

“Beauty is about more rounded, substantial becoming. And I think when we cross a new threshold, that if we cross worthily, what we do is heal the patterns of repetition that were in us that had us caught somewhere… we cross onto new ground where we just don’t repeat what we’ve been through in the last place we were. Beauty, in that sense, is about an emerging fullness, a greater sense of grace and elegance, a deeper sense of depth, and also a kind of homecoming for the enriched memory of your unfolding life.”

Ojai was a threshold for me — the ground where a pattern that was caught loosened and released — the ground where I tasted a new quality of presence that has continued to deepen throughout the year.

There are lots of patterns stuck in me still, this work is lifelong. But a deep taste of spaciousness emboldens me to continue to turn toward stuck places.

Ruthlessly Honest and Endlessly Compassionate

Dr. James Finley talks about moments like this poetically:

“It’s the ground which gives you the courage to face the work that you need to do with clarity, with patience. To be ruthlessly honest and endlessly compassionate towards yourself in going through the transformative process.”

I’m thankful to Rob for being Rob. In his unique Rob-ness, he generated space for me to embody more deeply my unique Kirsten-ness, which — maybe unsurprisingly — will include stepping into my role as a teacher…

A Soulspace Update

On that note — and in conjunction with having spent the past few months fully revamping / reimagining my practice at Soulspace, I’d like to tell you what that teaching role looks like, for me...

Apprenticing with Dr. Shannon Michael Pater was the place where all of this learning came together for me. His influence took something theoretical and helped me integrate the concepts in an embodied, organic way.

The innovative model integrates Applied Polyvagal Theory, Applied Internal Family Systems Theory, Applied Attachment Theory, Window of Tolerance, and ancient wisdom to guide us as we engage with our lives and connections (with ourselves, others, Spirit, and the planet).

A Framework to Hold Safe, Brave, Complex Space

Here’s how Shannon Michael describes the goal of the Neuro-Mystical Landscape:

“To create a framework to hold safe, brave, and complex space to be with and to work with the ruptures and residues of trauma in order to establish, cultivate, and restore the relationship with our Inner Wisdom.”

I bring my language, experience, and a lifetime of study to this model. I also understand that not everyone is interested in learning theory. I hope to simplify these concepts into entry points for everyday folks who want to benefit from them without having to learn an entirely new vocabulary.

This is not a one-size-fits-all model. It’s a slow and steady integration and applied theory into our particular lives.

Shannon Michael and I will also be introducing collaborative offerings soon, including an apprenticeship for spiritual care providers, retreats, and course offerings that have teaching and practice components.

Read more about my experience with the model in this blog post.

Do Not Resist, New Forms Are Calling

In closing, here are the lyrics to the song that found me at a threshold in Ojai that day, with Rob. May they be as much an invitation to you — in your becoming — as they were (and continue to be) to me.

Do not resist, new forms are calling
They patiently await embrace
Do not stop change in favor of comfort
A bud cannot resist to bloom
The more I learned the less I knew
Allow the nature that is you

- Shannon Lay, Awaken and Allow

Love,
Kirsten

Reflection Questions

• “Who are your teachers?” Let’s pick one of your teachers to focus on for the next few minutes. Take your time to let someone come into focus — you can come back later if you need some time.

• What was life like for you in the season you crossed paths?

• What was it about this person that impacted you? Feel free to start with the big picture.

• Are there some specific details about them to name that further illustrate your teacher’s influence? Sometimes when we get granular, deeper insights emerge. What was it about them in particular that drew you to them as a teacher?

• How does their impact stick with you today?

• When you remember & describe this teacher, is there a feeling you notice in your body? If so, can you describe where you feel it? If you were to give that feeling a name, what would it be?

• Consider taking a minute to savor what you noticed, and to appreciate it.

Would you like some company or gentle guidance as you listen for wisdom and explore new ways of engaging with your soul? I offer spacious accompaniment and trauma-informed spiritual direction. I’d love to hear what’s stirring in you and meet with you for a free exploration session.