Contrary to popular belief, a ‘guru’ is not just an old man with a long white beard and traditional Indian attire, out of whose mouth spout only wise and profound observations. In Sanskrit, the word ‘guru’ means ‘the remover (Ru) of darkness (Gu)’, signifying someone who removes our spiritual darkness (ie ignorance) thus
leading us towards enlightenment. A guru is a teacher, mentor, guide. In reality of course we can (and should) learn something from everyone who crosses our path in life. As J. Krishnamurti astutely pointed out: “Understanding of the self only arises in relationship”, meaning that it is only through contact with other people, things and ideas that we are able to learn more about ourselves – our likes and dislikes, our triggers, assumptions and deep-seated prejudices. As such, our guru can be our
partner, child, parent, anyone who can help us evolve into a better version of ourselves by challenging and increasing our self-awareness – is there a parent out
there who hasn’t been given endless opportunities by their child to practise the virtue of patience? Whenever I used to remind my own children that everyone teaches us something, they invariably asked the same question, “What about bad people?”, and I always answered that they teach us what NOT to be like.
My most unlikely personal guru is my ginger cat, Nahal (we have two cats actually, but Nahal is the more advanced yogi of the two ). As I observe her on her morning garden stroll, I am reminded to live fully in the present moment, like she does standing there taking stock of her surroundings: lifting her nose slightly to sniff the crisp morning air, squinting as she looks up at the bright blue sky, being fully absorbed by the wind making a leaf dance on the ground, listening to the birds
chirping on nearby trees, simply “being”. Looking at her brings to my mind Sadhguru’s quip (always delivered with his signature hearty chuckle) that we are
called human “beings”, not human “doings”!
Then when she returns back inside to take a nap, I am reminded of the importance of rest. Most of us humans feel guilty if we aren’t always running around doing things and being “busy”. Nahal does not view naps as a “guilty pleasure” – she enjoys every minute, luxuriating in the softness of my duvet. I also love watching her
sunbathe in front of a closed window in winter, instinctively knowing how vital sunlight is for her health and so visibly enjoying the warm caress of the sun on her
belly. In fact I marvel daily at how attuned she is to her body’s needs: sun, rest, stretching after sleep (like dogs also do -hence the name-, upon waking up she
never fails to do her downward- and upward-facing dog!), even sometimes eating grass in order to vomit and cleanse her system. All animals naturally have this
awareness, including us. The difference is that most of us humans are unable to access this innate wisdom due to all the external noise, relentless distractions and
excessive sensory pleasures of the modern world.
Living fully in the now, resting, listening to her body – every time I notice these things, I am reminded of how much I can learn from Nahal. So I invite you to take an
hour or so during your summer holidays to write down all your current and past teachers and feel a sense of deep gratitude towards all of them… human, or other.