I call myself a meditation teacher rather than a spiritual

When Sharon Salzberg declared, “I call myself a meditation teacher rather than a spiritual teacher,” she spoke with the humility and precision of one who has walked deeply into the silence of the mind. These words, though simple, reveal a profound truth: that the path of meditation is not about imposing doctrine or claiming authority over the soul, but about offering tools, practices, and direct experience. By choosing the name meditation teacher rather than spiritual teacher, she distances herself from the burden of speaking for the eternal or the divine, and instead takes her stand as a guide in the practical art of presence, awareness, and compassion.

The origin of this quote lies in Salzberg’s long years of teaching the practice of mindfulness and loving-kindness meditation. Her journey began as a seeker, wounded by suffering, who found in the teachings of Buddhism a method to heal the heart. Yet when she became a teacher, she did not claim mastery of the great mysteries. Instead, she offered herself as one who could show others how to sit, how to breathe, how to watch the movement of the mind. Her role was not to define the divine, but to guide others into direct encounter with their own hearts. Thus she chose her name carefully: not lofty, not exalted, but grounded—teacher of meditation.

This echoes the wisdom of the ancients. Consider Socrates, who called himself not a teacher of wisdom but a “midwife” of ideas. He claimed not to possess truth, but only to help others give birth to what already lay within them. Likewise, Salzberg refuses the title of spiritual master. She does not declare herself the keeper of mysteries. Instead, she offers the simple, practical tools by which the student may discover truth for themselves. In this way, her humility is her strength, for she leads not by proclamation but by example and practice.

History provides other mirrors of this path. The Buddha himself, when asked if he were a god or prophet, answered simply: “I am awake.” He did not demand worship but invited practice. He gave no claim of divine authority, but offered a path of meditation by which others could awaken in their turn. Salzberg’s words reflect this same spirit: she identifies not as one who possesses the eternal, but as one who teaches the means to approach it through discipline, stillness, and compassion.

The meaning here is also a safeguard. To call oneself a spiritual teacher is to risk becoming an idol in the eyes of others, to risk drawing devotion not to the practice but to the personality. By naming herself instead a meditation teacher, Salzberg protects her students from such danger. She points them not toward herself, but toward their own experience. This is the mark of true guidance: the teacher does not demand that the student cling to her, but equips the student to walk alone, strong and steady.

The lesson for us is profound: true teaching is not about claiming authority but about empowering others. The best guides in life are those who give us tools, not chains; who direct us to experience, not to blind belief. Salzberg’s choice of words reminds us that humility and clarity are themselves forms of strength. A meditation teacher does not promise salvation but teaches discipline, and in that discipline lies transformation.

Practically, let us learn from this in our own lives. When guiding others, be precise and humble in what you claim. Do not take the mantle of authority over another’s soul, but offer them practices that awaken their own power. When learning, seek out those who do not dazzle with titles, but who patiently teach with grounded simplicity. And in your own journey, remember that meditation—quiet, steady, unglamorous—may lead you further than grand speeches of spiritual mastery.

Thus Sharon Salzberg’s words endure as quiet wisdom: be not quick to claim greatness, but be steadfast in teaching what is useful. Call yourself not master of spirits, but servant of practice. In doing so, you will walk the path of humility, and like her, you will pass down not empty titles but living tools, gifts that strengthen the hearts of generations to come.