My Other Favorite Teacher

My favorite teacher does not like to be called “teacher” but rather he refers to himself as merely a guidepost pointing the way. I can respect that. Most people, however, understand me better when I use the term teacher, so I will.

One day, years ago, I was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself (a typical state for me when the dark side is needling me) because I could not be with my favorite teacher all the time. I, like so many of his students I imagine, would love to hide in his shirt pocket and go home with him after class so we could always bask in his presence. I think we trackerschool junkies are either in love with or want to be him.

Anyway, as I was lying there missing him, I had the split second flash of the face of a man who I recognized as my teacher from before I was born. That split second held all the feelings I had for him; love to the moon and back; I would even say adoration. I was shocked! I was glad! What a revelation that there are more people I can love that much!

I held onto that moment of recognition and stretched it out so I could memorize his face. He wasn’t impressive to look at. I would say he was average if not forgettable. He looked like he would be tall, with a normal but longish face. He was starting to lose his dark hair on the top of his head, and he wore black rimmed glasses, which struck me as funny because I would not think spirits wore glasses.

Seeing him and remembering my feelings toward him have been such a comfort to me. I have learned to recognize that the dark side loves to make me feel like I am missing out on something monumental, and that it is the most tragic thing ever. Wallowing in self pity and depression keeps me from being in the light.

In reality, I have come to know that everything I love is within me. All my experiences are within me. There is no “other”, no inner or outer, there is only oneness. I can love and be loved at all times.


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