Yoga Teacher Column (6): When an Instructor Stops Wanting to Teach...

Sometimes, It Is Not That You Stopped Loving It,
you have simply been gone from yourself for too long

It is not that the students are troublesome,
nor that work has run into obstacles,
the classes are fully booked,
yet you simply cannot summon the inner spark.

You begin doubting yourself:
Has my passion vanished?
Has my competence regressed?
Am I no longer cut out to be a teacher?

So many teachers begin pressuring themselves:
hold on a little longer,
try a little harder,
stay more positive,
act more professional.

Yet strangely,
the more you push yourself,
the heavier your physical body becomes.

Standing right there in the studio,
yet feeling as if you are completely absent;
guiding the practice,
yet sensing that your soul has wandered far away.

Many imagine
the greatest crisis for a teacher is having no students.
Lapis Light believes
the true crisis is:
being deeply exhausted, yet forbidding yourself from being exhausted.

Because teachers are so accustomed to taking care of others,
so accustomed to steadying others,
so accustomed to holding space for others.
Over time,
they begin forgetting that they too are human.

You permit students to rest, yet forbid rest for yourself.
You permit students to be fragile, yet forbid vulnerability in yourself.
You remind students to listen to their bodies,
while constantly ignoring your own.

And so, your living body begins sending alarms.

Some experience insomnia,
some become easily irritable,
some lose patience,
some lose enthusiasm for everything.

Even teaching, once your deepest love,
begins feeling like pure attrition.

Many teachers misunderstand this season as:
"Perhaps I am no longer meant for this path."

Often,
it is not that you are unfit,
it is simply that your system is overheated.

When the nervous system overheats,
every dilemma in life appears catastrophic.

You question your work,
question your relationships,
question your worth,
question your future.

Yet sometimes,
what you need
is not an intellectual answer at all,
but genuine rest.

Because for one who continuously pours out energy,
the greatest hazard
is not a deficiency of skill,
but forgetting to replenish oneself.

Some teachers
are always giving,
always holding,
always illuminating others.

Yet no one ever asks:
"And what about you?"

How long has it been since you lived solely for yourself?
How long since you soaked in the sun?
How long since you gazed at the open sea?
How long since you did nothing at all?

A truly seasoned guide
is not one who is eternally brimming with power,
but one who knows when to halt.

Because halting
is not quitting,
it is returning to your authentic center.

Life works in wondrous ways:
when you dash ahead blindly,
it intercepts you with exhaustion.

Not to punish you,
but to remind you:
you have wandered away from yourself for too long.

So if recently
you do not wish to teach,
do not wish to speak,
do not wish to care for anyone,

do not rush to self-scrutinize,
nor hasten into rash decisions.

First ask your body:
Am I tired?
Have I neglected myself for too long?

Because often,
once you have rested fully
and returned into the sanctuary of your flesh,
you will discover
that you never stopped loving this sacred path.

Lapis Light Concluding Words

As a teacher,
please remember:
you are not an instrument,
not a machine,
not an eternally shining beacon.

You are also someone who needs care,
someone who needs holding,
someone who gets weary.

So if one day
you truly know not what to do,
Lapis Light leaves you with this whisper:
"Go soak in seawater first."

If no relief arrives after the sea,
check again:
has it been over a month since you last touched the ocean?