03/01/2026
Years ago, when I first began teaching, someone offered to “package” me—dress me in traditional robes, give me a guru’s name, and cultivate a mystical aloofness. He insisted I’d be taken more seriously if I appeared holy. I declined. That persona wasn’t me.
I’ve had an awakening that reshaped how I see reality, and I care deeply about sharing what I’ve learned. But I still chop wood and carry water. I still feel anger at injustice. I still sometimes grumble when my wife leaves every light on in the house like we’re guiding ships safely to shore. I have experience in my field, yes, and an ideal I aim toward. But I’m still learning. And I teach from there.
Over time, it’s become obvious that many teachers struggle under the weight of the image they feel compelled to uphold. On stage, they may speak beautifully about compassion and transcendence; in private, they wrestle with the same emotions and wounds as anyone else. The gap between persona and person can be painful to witness, especially when we’ve projected perfection onto them.
That projection is part of the problem. We create an ideal of the “enlightened” human and then feel betrayed when teachers turn out to be human: reactive, imperfect, still growing. We need to stop putting people on pedestals. And teachers need to stop pretending they belong there.
At the same time, spiritual teachers do carry responsibility. Like any professional, they should embody the values they teach. Integrity matters. Dignity matters. Teaching is meant to point toward an ideal and inspire growth. But professionalism is not perfectionism. It doesn’t require suppressing one’s humanity or projecting infallibility.
In fact, the most trustworthy teachers are those who can admit where they struggle. Not as a display of vulnerability, but simply by being honest. A mature teacher doesn’t hide behind a two-dimensional facade; they allow themselves to be dynamic, evolving, and real.
Enlightenment, if it means anything, should look less like holiness and more like authenticity. It is choosing essence over ego: the freedom of not having to defend an image. When we drop the facade, we free not only ourselves, but those who learn from us. And in that shared humanity, something far more real and sustainable can grow.