here is no such thing as a great teacher. Only great students.

Of course, teachers can evoke the great students from the average students. In fact, that is a teacher’s job. What ultimately makes for a compelling teacher-student relationship is the student’s willingness to show up. That is the primary requirement. A student is to meet the teacher halfway. It’s what I mean when I use the expression, “show up for yourself.”

When you show up for yourself, you are willing to stay open and stick with it. You’re eager to see the lesson in every situation and use it to your benefit. You will fall, brush yourself off, understand why you fell, and then keep going. By doing so, you will have learned something.

“Fall down seven times.
Stand up eight.”
—Japanese proverb

We all love students who fall but get up, don’t we? A spirit like this is the epitome of heroism in action.

I’ve had students in my online retreat whose participation I enjoyed immensely. Every day, I looked forward to reading their reports. Here’s how they showed up:

• They did the assignments.
• They paid attention to what arose for them while doing the assignments.
• They shared their insights with everyone else afterward.
• They did this on most days.

Sometimes they would miss a day or two. But then they would bounce right back to tell us how they found themselves missing a day or two.

“It was those voices of resistance!” they would say.

And a smile would cross my face after reading that. Because the missing day provided them with powerful insight. To this, I would always reply, “Excellent! Good for you!”

Here’s my confession: I enjoy showing up for these types of students. I do my darnedest to pull down the sun, moon, and stars for them. Nothing lights me up more than those who show up for themselves with willingness.

You’ve seen people like this before too. They’re the ones who take notes, remain curious, and use everything as an opportunity to learn something. Contrast this with people who do the bare minimum, say nothing works, pretend to know everything and complain about how circumstances aren’t right. These people, if on fire, would proverbially, “Not urinate on themselves to put themselves out.”

And the question will eventually arise, “Shouldn’t we be compassionate to these people too?”

Yes, of course.

The best way I have found is to be a compassionate mirror. To show them how they are choosing not to show up for themselves. To evoke the part of them who, in fact, will show up for themselves.

But it is ultimately up to them. You can’t do the work for them. You can’t drag people to salvation. It must be their choice. They must choose authenticity instead of the voices. The ball is on their side of the court.

I’ll never forget, at the end of one of our precepts ceremonies at the monastery, a newly precepted monk waited for our teacher to put the rosaries around his neck. But my teacher just held the rosaries out to him. She told him that he must take them and put them around his own neck. The spiritual responsibility was his and his alone.

Over the years, I have used willingness as a gauge to see if people are ready to do the work of ending suffering and transform their lives. I can never, ever want it more for others than they want it for themselves.

The Buddha himself said, “You must work out your own salvation diligently.”

You must work it out. You must want it. And wanting it doesn’t show up in words.

It shows up in showing up.