“Every transition, every movement holds a story,
a silent expression of meaning that words can’t capture.
It’s not just about where the pose begins or ends,
but the journey in between.
The way the body whispers its truth in spaces
where breath meets motion.”
Movement holds far more depth than gaining muscle, avoiding fat, or chasing the idea of aging gracefully. Those are often the checks and balances behind why people choose to move, but I want to offer you a reframe.
Your movement is your art.
In what way do you want to express it today?
Maybe it’s in the gym, lifting and pushing your body to its edges. Maybe it’s a gentle yoga flow, a run, a walk, or dancing in your kitchen. And if it’s not already on your list, I want you to add this as a non-negotiable: move without a teacher. Just you and pure curiosity.
What feels good? What hurts? What makes you want to cry, laugh, or groan?
In classes, we are often challenged by a teacher or motivated by the natural urge to keep up with our peers. That has its value because being observed can push us a little further, and the body thanks us for that challenge. But what we often lose in group settings is the willingness to follow curiosity.
What if that yoga transition was the one that could pull you back to an unprocessed emotion that has been living in your tissues, waiting for the day you were strong enough to face it? Tears begin to well up, but crying in a group feels like too much, so you push it down and keep going.
When you return home, will you revisit that memory?
Will you create space to move back into that moment, to flow into every ache and transmute the pain that no longer serves you?
Make the time. Roll on the floor. Get curious.
How far can your knee move? Does it really only hinge back and forth, or is it more dynamic than that?
Bring your voice into the experience. Let your vagus nerve awaken through breath, groans, or song. Let sound remind your body that it is safe to feel.
Too many people live in fear of their own body. But this is your body. Know it better than anything.
This is an ever-growing practice for me. Every day, I discover new areas craving movement, spaces with little to no range of motion. So I keep showing up. I keep pushing that motion a little farther, holding infinite grace for what I didn’t know before and infinite curiosity for where I am headed.
What is this brilliant, beautiful body capable of, and even more importantly, what wisdom does she have to share with me?
comments +