A profound teacher of mine unexpectedly passed away; perhaps not unexpected by him, but certainly to most of the rest of us who were his students. And I find it a mystery that when someone dies, they become more alive for us; perhaps it is in the reflection and memories that this becomes true.
Yogiraj Achala, above all, was a man of courage. He ingrained in his students the necessity to face fear wherever we found it. And like all great teachers, he lived what he taught. More than anyone I know, he gave me pieces of myself that I didn’t even know I had discarded, leaving me with a fuller human self. And he left nothing untouched by his keen mind. He believed in a life lived well on the inside and the outside and looked at every level of system to become meticulous in his seeing and in his actions.
I have heard it said that the teacher does not want the student’s admiration or following. What a true teacher desires is that the student do their practice. It is a good reminder for me that if there is a teacher we honor and respect, our allegiance is best kept by the sincerity of our daily practice. After all, this is what delights the true teacher.