How To Cope When We Can’t ‘Fix’ Our Student’s Problems
When we begin working with people who have cancer or other serious illnesses, we often focus first on practicalities. We think about which practices might help certain symptoms, how to adapt postures safely, or what to offer when energy is low. These are important questions, and they do matter. They come from our care for our students and a genuine wish to help.
Yet over time, we can discover that the real challenge is not choosing the right posture or technique. It is learning how to be present when things cannot be fixed.
What happens when treatment does not go as hoped, when the cancer returns, when side effects remain, when loss, grief, or uncertainty enter the room?
It can be hard to witness someone’s suffering and know you cannot take it away. This work asks for courage and a kind of tender strength. It also asks us to accept that we are human. We may understand our professional boundaries in theory, yet still feel guilt, helplessness, or a sense of failing when someone we care about is struggling.
The truth is that we will be affected. That is part of being compassionate practitioners.
The aim is not to become unaffected. The aim is to learn how to stay steady, so those feelings do not overwhelm us or lead to over-giving, burnout, or emotional exhaustion. Support for yourself is not a luxury in this work. It is essential. We need to balance the compassion we give to others with the compassion we offer ourselves.
One of the greatest acts of self-compassion you can do as a teacher is to intentionally create your own support structure:
This might mean having a trusted yoga teacher friend you meet regularly for peer support, where you can speak honestly and confidentially about your experiences.
It could include counselling, supervision or mentoring with someone experienced in therapeutic work.
Many teachers also find it helpful to keep a reflective journal after sessions, so emotions and thoughts have somewhere to land rather than staying inside.
Regular personal practice that nourishes you rather than your students is another anchor.
Some teachers also create simple rituals that mark the end of a teaching day, such as stepping outside for fresh air, washing their hands mindfully, or taking three slow breaths before moving on. Small practices like these can help you release what is not yours to carry.
Personally I find my daily gratitude practise helps to bring perspective and balance by remembering what is good in life and in my work.
Holding space for someone is powerful. Being the person who listens without judgment, who does not rush to fix, who allows another human being to be seen and heard exactly as they are, can be deeply therapeutic. Often that safe presence is what someone with cancer needs most.
But holding space for others becomes sustainable only when someone, somewhere, is also holding space for you.
I invite you to pause and reflect on the question: who supports me as I support others?
You might like to journal your answer and see what comes up for you. Does it feel like there’s enough support or are there gaps? Do any of the suggestions above resonate with you? What would you like to put in place to support you more? Remember that our needs can change with time according to where we are in our lives and level of work. What worked a couple of years ago may not be the right solution today.
Rest assured that all of us need support - there is no magic amount of experience and learning that makes us immune or invincible!
This is why I incorporate personal development, ongoing support and community into my accredited Holistic Teacher Training Course. This work is deeply rewarding, often fun but also requires external support. If you would like to become a specialist teacher and be part of this network you can find out more and book a discovery call here.