The Teachings, Not The Teacher

We gathered shoulder-to-shoulder in a circle, the constellation of the Costa Rican sky above, the sand under our feet, a burning fire before us.  The shaman instructed us to blow on a wooden stick and toss it into the fire as an offering to burn our teachers. Burn our teachers?  Images of The Crucible began to dance in my brain.  I love my teachers, even the ones I don’t like…

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Emma DeVitoComment