I feel really good in the teacher role.

The words of Jimmy Chamberlin—“I feel really good in the teacher role”—speak of the deep fulfillment that comes not from the stage of performance, but from the sacred space of teaching. Here is a man who has lived the fire of creativity, who has known the triumph of his craft, and who now declares that his greatest peace lies not only in doing, but in guiding others. The role of teacher is not a lesser crown, but a nobler one, for it turns personal mastery into a legacy that shapes the lives of others.

The meaning of this reflection is that true joy often comes not from keeping one’s gifts, but from passing them on. The teacher role transforms private experience into shared wisdom, turning victories and struggles into lessons that others may use as stepping-stones. For an artist such as Chamberlin, who once lived at the center of music’s storms, to feel good in the teacher’s seat is to confess that the highest form of artistry is not performance alone, but the cultivation of greatness in those who follow.

History has shown this truth countless times. Socrates, though he wrote no books, left behind students like Plato who carried his voice into eternity. His strength lay not in claiming glory, but in asking questions that awakened the souls of others. Likewise, in the realm of art, great masters such as Johann Sebastian Bach trained generations of students, planting seeds of music that would bloom long after his own passing. To feel “good in the teacher role,” as Chamberlin does, is to join this eternal lineage of those who choose legacy over self alone.

One might also recall the story of Aristotle, whose teacher was Plato, and whose student was Alexander the Great. Each link in this chain carried not only knowledge, but the essence of mentorship. Without the teacher, the student would not rise. Without the student, the teacher’s wisdom would fade into silence. Chamberlin’s words remind us that this chain is unbroken even now, in every rehearsal room, classroom, and quiet moment where a mentor invests in the future of another.

The lesson, O seekers, is that teaching is service—a noble act that magnifies one’s influence beyond a single lifetime. To feel joy in this role is to embrace the truth that what we give away is never lost, but multiplied. The applause of crowds may fade, but the lessons planted in a student’s heart will echo for generations. To be a teacher is to live not only for oneself, but for the unfolding story of all who come after.

Practically, this means that each of us, no matter our station, has opportunities to step into the teacher role. You need not be a master of an art or a scholar of great renown. If you have learned, you can teach; if you have walked, you can guide. A parent teaching a child, a worker guiding an apprentice, a friend offering counsel—all of these are acts of teaching, acts that ripple outward into the greater fabric of human destiny.

Therefore, let this wisdom be carved into memory: to feel “good in the teacher role” is to stand in harmony with the eternal purpose of humanity. For we are not meant to hoard our gifts, but to pass them onward like torches in the night. Each teacher is a flame-bearer, lighting the path so that others may walk further than we ourselves have gone. To take joy in this is to live not only for the present moment, but for eternity.