I first met Ed at Yoga on Main in 2007. I was convinced he was my guru even though he wanted no parts of that! I looked up to him as my teacher and spiritual guide for many years. He wasn't an easy teacher. Truth be told, he mostly ignored me at first. He rarely answered my questions. It took years for him to take me serious as a student. Even then he was harsh with me. His harshness only made me work harder for his approval. I'll never forget the feeling of getting a star on my Ayurveda homework with a little note "Great work". I felt like I won the lottery! I still have that homework assignment.
When I asked him if he would be willing to lead a study group on the Upanishads instead of an answer he gave me a challenge. "You find 5 people interested and I'll do it." I accepted the challenge and started recruiting. At first I was literally bribing my friends with dinner at my house if they would go to Ed's for the study group. Every month I was practically dragging people off the street so that I'd have 5 people to attend the study group. Eventually, a small group of serious students would consistently show up, month after month and the group grew.
The hours we spent at Ed's little cabin in the woods were magical. The wood stove and the giant pot of homemade chai kept us warm while we watched the birds and listened to Ed's stories. Sometimes we would roll our eyes when he would recount the same story for the 100th time with new embellishments every time he told the story. Still, we knew how lucky we were to be there. It felt like church for us. It was a sacred space filled with years of spiritual practices that the energy was palpable. After a while, someone else took over organizing the study group. Most of the students from the original group moved on. I continued to attend for a long time but then... I too, stopped attending. At first, the schedule didn't work for me and then I felt disconnected from the group.
I have so many Ed stories rolling around in my head right now. I remember one night after yoga teacher training Ed and I were walking to our cars. He was telling me that he was doing some chores at his house and he got hurt. It made him worry that if anything happened to him no one would even know because he was alone in middle of the woods. When I asked him what I could do to help him he said "find me a nice lady." Instead, we compromised. I committed to checking in with him every day to make sure he was ok. He happily agree. Each day I would either call, or email him. This went on for several years. Some days he would exchange some pleasantries and other days just a simple "OK" to my question "how are you doing today?". There came a point when he had a new group of students that he was interacting with on a regular basis and we agreed that I no longer needed to check on him daily. I'm so grateful to this group of students who have been caring for him until the end.
Once, when Ed learned that I was teaching a workshop on Sadhana he pushed a book into my hands and said "If you're going to be teaching Sadhana you should at least know something about it". This was one of the times when his harshness really hurt. However, another student pointed out that he must trust me if he was willing to loan me one of his books. I was so nervous that something would happen to the book during the month I had it that I carried it around in a ziplock bag. I would only read it at the dining room table with a clean tablecloth. It was at the dining room table that the front cover of the book fell off!! I was horrified! After hyper-ventilating for an hour I frantically searched the internet to find a replacement. The following month when I returned Ed's book, still in the ziplock bag, I explained what happened. I offered him both the original and the replacement copy, practically in tears. He grabbed the original and brushed it off saying "That happens with books from India all the time". It was only after I had read the book that he would engage in a serious conversation with me about Sadhana.
I could fill a book with stories about Ed. Maybe I'll write a series of posts to share some of my favorite stories. I'll call it "Ed says". I'll end this post with the story of the last time I was with Ed before he started to decline. He invited me to teach his Ayurveda students a class on Ayurveda and Yoga. I was scheduled to teach for 2 hours. I was so nervous teaching in front of him but once I began I found my rhythm and the time flew by. During the break he came over to me and told me that I did a fantastic job and he was impressed with the material I had prepared. So much so that he let me teach the rest of the class that day. The star on my homework felt like winning the lottery. Receiving positive feedback on my teaching Ayurvedic yoga felt like.... I don't know. I can't find the words to describe how that felt. Honestly, it felt like he finally saw me as a serious student.
When I was leaving after that class he told me I was a good teacher. As I hugged him good-bye I told him that it was because I had good teachers like him that I am able to be a good teacher. My heart is broken that we didn't have more time together but I know that I was blessed to have spent so many hours seated at the foot of my guru. I will honor his memory by continuing to share the teachings I learned from him. 
Oh... one more story, I was trying to figure out why I felt such a strong connection to a teacher that I didn't know very well. Ed said to me "You may not have known her very well in this lifetime but there's no doubt that we have all done this dance together in another lifetime." The thought of sharing another lifetime with Ed as my teacher gives me some comfort tonight. I wonder if he'll be telling the same stories in the next life??
One day I'll tell you about the time I brought Ed the soup he requested when he was sick. That was another time when his harshness hurt. He could be such a cranky old man at times but I loved him and my life is infinitely better for having had him as my teacher.
Until we meet again....
