Do you ever find yourself thinking or actually saying out loud – what am I supposed to ‘learn’ from this experience, via a person, place or thing? I know I have. But have you considered that perhaps you have been the ‘teacher’ in a lesson learned? For example, you would be sharing a personal experience with someone and they say ‘wow, I never thought of that before. You’ve opened my eyes to a new way of looking at things.’ Or maybe you’ve just ‘shown up’ to help whether it is helping them move furniture or to pack, unpack, or re-pack – and having that person say ‘gee, I’m really surprised you’re here, thanks.’ You’ve just taught that person to be non or less judgemental or perhaps just to remind them of who you are, who WE are. The following is an excerpt of a reading from a writer named Mark Nepo.

Kikakou was a student of Basho, the great Japanese poet of the seventeenth century. One day Kikakou brought Basho this haiku about why we need each other:

This moment of small things opens the heart of all teaching. For we each take turns being the blind child, the guiding other, and the blossom, never really knowing which until we've learned what we are to learn from each other. In this, we all take turns being the teacher.

In essence, being a spirit on earth calls us to keep listening to that Original Presence inside that doesn’t change, and to live accordingly. Of course, being human, things get in the way. We often get in our own way, repeatedly. In truth, we all struggle with these recurring life positions: being lost, being found, and being a bridge. We all experience these different senses of the journey.

After thirty years of teaching, I confess that I can find no other way to learn than to ask and listen. I have to say, I want to say, that it starts out simple, gets complicated and, by burning what is not real, gets simple again. This is the curriculum that never ends. No matter if we’re tired, spring comes again and some undying impulse needs to break ground. It’s the same with pain and denial, those winters of the heart. One day, when blessed, the tulip coated with soil is again a tulip, and with an urgency we thought we left behind, we must wake.

I think we could forget all the ways to study in school and just wait for this moment; knowing and believing that those who wake are students - and those who stay awake are teachers.