Not Seeking a Guru: Happy Guru Purnima 2024
By Theresa Shay
This is the first piece in a series about the relationship with the guru.
I had already moved a bit closer to Kaliji’s mat to accommodate a Level 4 turn that required staggering our positions. When we began the transition from Seated Butterfly to Tortoise Seat, I was close enough she could hear my quietest whisper.
“I’m stuck,” I admitted. I did not have the ankle flexibility to move any further forward with my hips. Yet, when I tried to head back, my body refused this as well. I was literally suspended over my feet, relying on arm strength to keep from crushing my own ankles, and wondering how I would ever find a familiar place again.
“You’re stuck?” Kaliji looked over and paused. “Is there anywhere else in your life you’re stuck?”
My mind raced to many situations that felt as intense as this one but had nothing to do with my ankles.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get unstuck,” she offered, and moved her attention back to leading the group into the next flow.
A guru is someone who asks powerful questions, reflects back an expanded reality that is possible, and remains steady in their own flow. Kaliji brought these qualities to my Tortoise Seat transition and has offered such presence for decades on my spiritual journey. In gratitude, today I celebrate Guru Purnima and Yogini Kaliji.
In the yoga tradition, Guru Purnima honors the fullness (purna) of the guru. “Guru” is that which is heavy with knowledge, dispels darkness and reveals the inner light. This awakens one to the inner state of freedom. On the full (purna) moon each July, teachers and gurus are celebrated for their role in the student’s and disciple’s life.
In spiritual communities and in our yoga community which respects a lineage of spiritual teachers, one who imparts spiritual wisdom is considered “guru”. A guru moves a seeker toward the inner truth and wakes up the inner guru.
When I met Yogini Kaliji in 1995, my friend and yoga teacher Kashi knew immediately that Kaliji was her guru. She was so excited to have connected with Kaliji, as Kashi had been seeking her spiritual teacher her whole life.
I, on the other hand, had none of these feelings. I was wary of the concept of a guru, and especially concerned about what it would mean to claim a someone as “my” guru. I stuck to the edges of the scene, watching and waiting for the guru parts to be over. I was eager to move my body and breath, which were the parts of TriYoga I most connected to at the beginning.
For a few years, I straddled an awkward position. I was committed to the practice of TriYoga because I could feel how transformative it was for my body and especially my mind. I was deeply grateful to Kaliji for bringing me more relaxation and ease through her teachings and her calm presence. Yet I squirmed when the bowing and smiling ensued, people holding their hands palm to palm in front of their hearts while they thanked Kaliji for transforming their lives, tears sometimes streaming down their faces.
One day, a few years into my TriYoga journey, I decided I needed to confront this situation. I arranged a private conversation with Kaliji during a weekend program. When I was called for my turn, I took my seat in front of her on the landing at the top of the stairs.
I launched into explaining how uncomfortable I felt when people responded to her in ways I didn’t understand and didn’t naturally come to. “The thing is,” I explained, “I’m really grateful for TriYoga, but I’m not looking for a guru.” I gulped and waited.
She smiled genuinely. I thought about my steady attendance at every program that had been available to me since I’d come to TriYoga. Clearly, there was something drawing me to the practice.
“Tell me,” she returned, “what are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for a friend and a teacher.”
“OK, then. I’ll be your friend and your teacher.” She smiled more.
The tension in my face and throat began to soften. Was it really that easy? Was she giving me permission to be myself? Was she fine with my presence in the group whether I bowed down or not? Was she saying I could belong here no matter what resistance was going through my mind?
Yes, she was saying all that.
My smile emerged along with hers. By the time I walked down the stairs to join the group again, I was floating. She had blessed me with acceptance, removed the obstacle to my relaxing, and set me on a path toward realizing all that truly matters. She had, I would understand later, demonstrated the unwavering steadiness and unconditional love of the guru who resides above the pair of opposites.
On this day of Guru Purnima, I bow with gratitude and humility to Kaliji who has opened so many doors for me – for my body, mind, spirit – and pointed me toward the inner light and eternal truth. I am alive, awake, aware, and truly grateful for the opportunity to offer appreciation to the lineage of gurus who have called me forth into Being.
With a full pranam (bowing down), I wish Kaliji and Swamiji (who are together in Chicago today) a Happy Guru Purnima, so grateful for what they show us to be possible through yoga.
Theresa Shay is the founding director of TriYoga of Central Pennsylvania, where she teaches weekly yoga and meditation online and trains others to teach TriYoga®. Each week, she shares wisdom cultivated from decades of TriYoga study and practice.
Learn more about her here. Theresa can be reached at Theresa@PennsylvaniaYoga.com. Find her on Instagram @theresa_of_triyoga for more inspiration and light.