Ancient Guidance for Modern Yoga Trainings
by Claire Szabo-Cassella
Since the time of the Vedas, a peace mantra—Om Saha Navavatu—has guided and
strengthened yoga trainings with powerful applications still relevant for teachers and
students today. No where is this more true than when teacher and student come
together for teacher training, deepening their practice with the intent of passing yoga
on to others in some way. Today, we steer our course through a wide array of
training opportunities with an ever-increasing use of technology. At the same time, a
publicized list of yoga teacher-student misconduct is growing longer. This ancient
mantra serves as an invaluable code of honourable instruction, needed now perhaps
more than ever.
Om Saha Navavatu, (taken from the Taittiriya Upanishad 2.2.2) reminds both teacher
and student they’ve come together to transmit the teachings of yoga, which are often
difficult concepts, with as much grace as they can muster. As a result, the learning
experience equips practitioners with an upgraded set of life skills: tools to better
juggle virtues with vices, reduce suffering, and create a healthier, saner world – not
to mention, offer techniques to consciously communicate the promise of yoga to
future students. A rather big mission! The yoga teacher training journey is often
intense and bumpy, and with two passengers (teacher and student) sharing the ride,
a good GPS—in this case, “Guiding Principles System”—proves mighty handy.
Invoking this mantra activates just such guidance.
You can begin any training session with this mantra, even if the teacher or training
does not. (Note: Variations in spelling, translation and pronunciation exist. Google
the one that works best for you.)
May the Universal Power protect us both
Om saha navavatu
May we both be nourished
Saha nau bhunaktu
May we work together with energy and vigour
Saha viryam karavavahai
May our learning be luminous and purposeful
Tejasvi navadhitamastu
Let there be no animosity amongst us
Ma vidvisavahai
May there be peace, peace and perfect peace
Om shantih, shantih, shantih
May the Universal Power protect us both
Om saha navavatu
As with most sacred mantras, the first word in the original Sanskrit is Om—the sound
representing the Universal Power. Whatever term suits your fancy, (Brahman, God,
Goddess, Buddha, Jesus, Mother Nature, etc.,) the mantra immediately
acknowledges that a divine source presides and protects (avatu). It is the power
weaving teacher and student together (saha) in a participatory exchange while being
the energy creating the union in the first place. By recognizing a higher power is at
the helm, the playing field is immediately leveled. The Great Mystery inherent within
both teacher and student is equal – always. This is especially helpful or perhaps
unusual advice in cultures that govern by hierarchy and/or glorify personality over
character. In the yoga world, this can manifest as practitioners perceiving an
individual’s genetic yoga heritage suggests greater competency than the highly
trained instructor down the street; and where Tony Robbins-esque “enter-trainers”
imply an elevated state of being over the quiet nature of introverted thinkers. The
mantra honours everyone as an evenly valued side of the same coin.
The first line also reminds us that any training is just not for the benefit of the student.
It’s a dynamic exchange where both teacher and student seek enlightenment along a
shared path. Om Saha Navavatu empowers an effective transformational process by
offering protection from the pitfalls of egoistic behaviour to both of them along the
way.
May we both be nourished
Saha nau bhunaktu
Neither teacher nor student is together by chance. It has taken the linking of
thousands upon thousands of teacher-student relationships to come to any training
moment, and, in turn, affects the content and quality of teacher-student dynamics in
the ages ahead. A humbling and inspiring reminder that embracing a good attitude
towards one another matters.
Line two reminds the student, not just the teacher, s/he directly affects the energetic
potency of any session–that s/he usually spent good money to attend–by being a
great student mirroring a great teacher, for the two are a reflection of one another.
There is no empty space between them. The net has been cast, the web woven.
Metaphysical waves of energy are being funneled by thoughts, feelings and beliefs
before, during and even lifetimes after training sessions.
A student nourishes (bhunaktu) the teacher by being ready to learn. By outward
appearances that means ear buds removed, seated upright, mind focused on the
task at hand. A student’s readied and full attention respects whoever has agreed to
undertake the teacher role that session, or that moment, whether it’s the Dalai Lama
or a fellow practicing teacher trainee. Add to this a full commitment to listen, to ask
appropriate questions and to engage with the material to the best of his/her ability.
And there’s nothing more honourable than when a student who has had a personally
challenging training session still says “thank you” to the teacher for time and lessons
shared. These actions elevate the learning experience and can sharpen the teacher’s
skills and preparedness.
Likewise, the teacher has the responsibility to nourish the student by weaving content
with a passion for delivering that content in ways suitable for a variety of learning
styles without favouritism or bias. By invoking the mantra’s power at the start of each
session, both (nau) teacher and student commit to encouraging one another.
May we work together with energy and vigour
Saha viryam karavavahai
The peace mantra also inspires that which makes any yoga training successful:
energy (viryam) and vigour (karavavahai). It wasn’t that long ago if you wanted to
learn yoga, let alone teach yoga, you traveled to a faraway land, found a guru who
may or may not willingly translate the traditions for you, and hung out together for a
very long time. Yoga training was generally a one-on-one private session, sans the
teacher as cheerleader to bolster your ego or tired muscles. (Oh, and it helped if you
were male, not female. Entry into that club took—well, I’ll use the term—hutzpah.
And blessings to our yoga foremothers who managed access.) Often instruction was
strictly oral—no PowerPoint shows, note taking or recorders to rewind the day’s
teachings at a later date. Discipline, repetition, and commitment were all you had;
What stuck was what you needed to hear, and what you and your teacher trusted
you’d remember when the necessary time came to apply or pass along the teaching.
Energy and vigour were needed then, and they are required of us now, even with all
the fantastic ways technology makes learning yoga more accessible.
Nerves and excitement aside, it’s relatively easy to show up to teacher training the
first day, or click on the first on-line module. When the honeymoon period ends
however, the real training begins. And it’s here that some participants can become
passive rather than active learners. They may show up, but only to observe and exert
minimal effort. They often rush in late, leave early, offering only what keeps their
egos safe and bodies comfortable. By chanting the mantra at the start of our training
sessions we fire our engines. We summon a personal momentum to do the best we
can. We promise to work together as teacher and student to awaken our true selves.
May our learning be luminous and purposeful
Tejasvi navadhitamastu
The necessity for more great energy (tejasvi) follows next, this time to sharpen our
intellect (adhi). Yoga study is designed to enlighten us, to make us shine, not resign
us to mediocrity. Training to be a yoga teacher naturally summons the discipline
(tapas) of body, mind and spirit for self-growth. It requires everyone to come readied
with needful preparations, every time, not just when they feel like it or it’s convenient.
As a result, transformation happens. Progress may feel miniscule on some days, but
as guru Larhiri Mahasaya told his yoga disciples in the 1800s, “Making, making,
some day made.” Learning yoga, and learning to teach yoga, is slow work requiring
perseverance. Like a dimmer switch, it gradually brightens our inner light. The
process may also be messy at times, but when tears, sweat and laughter erupt,
(sometimes all at once!), they are good signs that barriers to self-growth are breaking
down, enabling our authentic selves to illuminate our practice regardless of whether
or not we rise into Crow Pose (Bakasana.)
The mantra reminds us purpose is meaningful. If you’re ever caught wondering, “Why
I am doing this training?” the mantra reminds you immediately, and that meaning is
always more potent than any notion that arises in that moment. Often the overriding
“why” changes meaning during the course of training, and many times more than
once. By allowing and recognizing those internal shifts we surrender our set goals for
even greater possibilities to arise.
As a yoga teacher trainer for eight years, I have witnessed many trainees who
consider themselves shy and have no desire to teach in a studio when the training
ends. They sign up for the six-month training to deepen their understanding of yoga
postures (asana) and philosophy. Fair enough. Mid-way through training however,
they are often the first to say, “I’ve changed my mind. I want to teach yoga classes!”
These individuals are opening up to an exciting new aspect of themselves and this
“discovered” purpose propels the teacher-student journey forward. Likewise, some
more extroverted types find a fresh side of themselves emerging during the training
process. They begin to balance natural enthusiasm with more reflective aspects of
the practice, which shows in the evolution of their teaching style. All the energy and
vigour poured into the learning experience makes us shine
, just as the mantra’s fourth line intends.
Let there be no animosity amongst us
Ma vidvisavahai
When tension between teacher and student arises, the ego has reared its
intimidating head. At this point, the Vedic mantra becomes more than just a recitation
of cool mystic poetry—it’s a lifeline. When a student and/or teacher hit up against
their s-t-u-f-f (modern jargon for samskaras), which is often a case of transference or
countertransference at play1, this peace mantra serves as a safe refocusing tool for
the troublesome ego(s). The mantra advises against animosity (vidvis), especially
when things get sticky, or downright rocky depending on the personalities or ego grit
involved.
Both teacher and student aspire to explore the complex workings of body and mind
with honour and courtesy, knowing ultimately no one knows more about what’s right
for a body than the person in that body. No one. Sure, a teacher brings specialized
knowledge to the table, but a student’s respectful questions and mutual openmindedness make the study a richer exchange, ultimately advancing the practice.
Respect for the process and for the often-intertwining roles of teacher and student is
critical. Humour and the peace of mind not to take it all so seriously will also help, a
lot.
A student must earn the respect of the teacher, and in turn the teacher must earn the
respect of the student. We must stop and ask ourselves how that respect is best
earned. Does a raised platform and headset, flash website or best-selling book
automatically signal yoga authority? Do we actually believe the content being
delivered is true of our practice? Does the teacher (or student) walk the talk,
practicing a yogic lifestyle? Do we witness feedback in class that appropriately
guides and respectfully challenges? Does the teacher (or student) serve with a
passion to pass on correct knowledge and is s/he ok when the other moves on?
These are just some of the discerning questions we must continually and
compassionately evaluate to the best of our ability as teacher and student.
The mantra’s fifth line recognizes the seeming complexity of our human/divine
nature, urging respect as we carefully weigh our answers. Our changeable, limited
perceptions regarding any teacher or student rarely paint a perfect picture. Can we
be grateful for what works in our training experience without being judgmental,
revengeful or hateful for what doesn’t? Even in extreme cases of disagreement, the
mantra asks that we try.
Without naming names, a list of high-profile yoga teachers with accusations of
misconduct (sexual, financial, etc.) is growing longer. Like many, I have enjoyed
studying with some of them and learned a lot. Detailed reports of such transgressions
truly test our connection to one another as teacher-student. Even if we weren’t the
ones directly involved and the event happens long after our own training with the
teacher (or student) involved has passed, we may feel betrayed, question our
judgment, disregard what was quality instruction, and maybe even disparage the
notion of yoga itself. I’m not saying restitution is not in order, but more blame, shame
and negative gossip in situations like these doesn’t help either. The mantra cautions
against such unproductive behaviour.
Likewise, a disgruntled student who violates contractual obligations or quits the
training can ruffle the feathers of even the most seasoned teacher. For either student
or teacher to then hide behind a computer screen, bruised ego ripe with vengeance,
and make disparaging remarks about the other public and permanent without first
courageously addressing the situation, ideally face-to-face (or with studio
management), doesn’t bode well for anyone.
Self-examination, self-restraint and forgiveness are useful alternatives to such drama
and conflict. When our idealized teacher or student fails our expectations, do we
inwardly examine our own behaviour and aspirations of what it means to teach yoga?
When a teacher or student shines, do we celebrate? Do both teacher and student act
with integrity when a mutual attraction stirs a desire for greater intimacy? Regarding
this last question, those who like to keep their options open answer, “It’s really on a
case-by-case basis.” Maybe it is. But until the relationship is unquestionably teacherteacher instead of student-teacher, adhering to the ten ethical guidelines of yoga
(yamas and niyamas) always serve both individuals and their study well. The peace
mantra Om Saha Navavatu understands that the teacher-student process stirs the
soul, sometimes feeling like a blender on high speed. Because of this, it explicitly
cautions against the pitfalls of egoistic thinking if we are to achieve a harmonious and
productive outcome.
May there be peace, peace and perfect peace
Om shantih, shantih, shantih
Ancient wisdom is around for a reason. The inherent guidance of Om Saha Navatu
safeguards our connectedness rather than an illusion of our separateness or
“specialness”. It stresses the importance of mindful choices in our interactions. And, if
we are to actualize the mantra’s final verse, it ensures we are seeing situations from
a truthful perspective if we can forgive others as well as ourselves. These are the
instructive and inspiring yogic experiences inherently embedded in the teacherstudent dynamic; it is a unique exchange requiring dedication, courageous selfinquiry, patience, humour, respect, and the personal involution of both parties.
Ultimately this dynamic has the power to bring together the disparate parts of
ourselves and mold them into a more joyful community while evolving the living art
forward.
Today we are blessed with yoga workshops and teacher trainings galore. Whether
training on-line or en masse with a couple hundred other sweaty folks, it still pays to
say this short, very old prayer honouring the true purpose of our learning together: to
become better peacemakers. And in that regard, Om Saha Navavatu inspires us to
aim high, gloriously high. The teacher-student journey can lead to greater inner
peace, peace in nature, and perfect peace in our divine oneness.
Claire Szabo-Cassella is the co-founder of Hot Yoga of New Zealand and its teacher
training program. Her teaching style reflects a belief that transformational self-growth
results from dedication, play and self-inquiry. www.hotyoganz.com,
hotyoganz@icloud.com
1
Farhi, Donna, Teaching Yoga, Rodmell Press, Berkeley, California, 2006, pp. 33-35