I think in so many ways I was always trying to find my way back to the body. Through dance, movement, acting, yoga. The parts of these things that I loved had to do with moving the body, telling a story with the body, feeling emotions and energy as a body.

 

But what really woke up the hunger and the will to dive all the way in, was pain. Big deep wide unmanageable pain.

 

In my late 20s, things began to bubble to the surface that my previous coping skills couldn’t manage. My body was asking me to meet things that I just didn’t have the capacity to meet.

 

I did a yoga teacher training certification program and on the mat, I would feel my body fighting to free itself. It wasn’t calm, centered, or zen. It was all over the place. Energy would rise up that I couldn’t contain and also that I didn’t really want to contain anymore. Tears, rage, grief, agitation, joy,  shame, anything and everything.

 

In my training though, and in many meditative and yoga worlds they urge you to calm the system. To be more in your "relax and digest" state. To release, let go, and be calm. That’s not what I needed. And so I thought this was just another thing I was too broken for. Why can’t I just be happy and relaxed? What’s wrong with me?

 

I felt like my body was betraying me. Why can’t you just behave?!

But there was a little voice inside of me that was craving this uncontrollable energy. This wildness, this big full ocean of feelings inside. That part of me scared me.

 

So because it seemed like there were just too many things wrong with me I started trauma talk therapy. It was important to begin to address some of the deeper traumas held in my history, and it felt like what needed to happen at the time.

 

Looking back though I see how much the body needed to be involved. How much more resourcing and capacity building I needed to do before I dived into just talking about my trauma. Without that foundation of support, I just kept reliving it, bringing the energy back up into my body but giving it no place to go.

 

Therapy had its benefits, but it woke up so much deep undigested pain in my body that I decided to do whatever it took to heal myself. A hunger for wholeness began to drive everything I did. 

 

I started doing it all. Workshops, retreats, embodiment classes, somatic experiencing, emotional intelligence workshops, things that I don’t even have names for. I read every book. I listened to all the podcasts. I did all the things. 

 

Out of all that noise, there was that little part of me again whispering to keep letting the body feel those big energies. To keep letting the body lead. It told me the messages to calm things down, let go of anger, and release my pain, were not the medicine I needed. What I needed was to let my body get angry, to let it kick and push and punch. To let my body growl, and howl, and bite. To claw, my way down and back out again. To let my grief open me up so wide that I grew bigger.

 

What started to be the thing that brought me back to ME was the body.  The classes, and practices that were body-based were what started to really change my life. I started trusting my body, trusting my capacity to meet the energy, trusting life. Instead of fighting to calm energy down, I started to get that energy back. I started to feel alive, vibrant, and like the truth of me.

I hadn't known how much I had been longing for that. 

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And so I began to deeply desire to share this work. I started mentorships with the teachers that did the work I wanted to do in the world. I became (and still am) extremely dedicated to learning, growing, and supporting others to do the same. 

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