Guess what? Next weekend marks the 1 year anniversary of when I taught my first EMBODY class. It was at the in-person weekend for the EMBODY teacher training in my hometown of NYC.
I remember feeling ‘all grown up’… returning to my physical home-land not just to visit friends and family per usual, or even for a business trip, of which there have been many.
This was different. This was me stepping into a fuller version of me that felt like it had always been there even though I had never done it before. It was like putting on that dress that hugs every curve just-so, or the perfect one-of-a-kind pair of shoes that you never want to take off (and if you do you just stare at because they bring you joy).
It was like coming home to myself.
And not just because I was in the place where I spent the first 26 years of my life.
Yes, the people at the deli next door knew me, and sure I could navigate the subway system from memory,
But what felt most like home was accessing a part of me that I had never touched before, yet when We connected, it was like I always knew Her.
And of course, I was shitting myself.
In the hour before I was up to lead the other trainees through an EMBODY class, I was literally shaking at my core. Luckily I was also dancing as others taught their class, so the shaking blended right in.
My mind was zig-zagging to every dark corner it knew of.
What if I forget what to say? What if no one like the songs? What if my voice dries up and I squeak out the cues. What if I traumatize someone? What if it’s the worst EMBODY class ever?
I remember lying on the floor during the savasana song, a mere 10 minutes before I was on . We had just been led through a beautiful heart-opening experience by one of my fellow teachers. She was a yoga teacher, had led movement classes before, was an experienced meditation leader.
All the thoughts: “I don’t have what she has.” “I’m not as good of a meditator as her.”
And then, in the midst of the noise in my head, the truth and the love snuck through.
“This is not about you Kendra. You are here to love the shit out of them. Love every single person in this room, including yourself. All you have to do is send them Love as you lead.”
My heart-rate slowed down a little bit. My breathing got a little bit more peaceful.
And then it was my turn.
And I did it.
And I found Me. And it felt scary and humbling and familiar all at the same time.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember why I do what I do. I get caught up in my own world, my own needs, my own darkness. I forget that this is not about me. I forget that my one and only job is to love the shit out of you.
I do love you though. Even when my head forgets, my heart remembers.
I especially love that part of you that fits you like the glove. The part of you that is your own version of home.
The process of embodying your true self is not easy. It feels scary and hopeless and tumultuous while simultaneously bringing joy and ecstasy and a feeling of pure connectedness that is hard to explain.
I have love for this process and for those who answer the invitation to more for their life than what the world has carved out for them. The call to strip it all off and be left with just a tiny flame of your soul that feels so familiar, even though it looks nothing like that life you thought you were going to live or the person that you thought you were supposed to be, and it scares the living shit out of you.
My prayer is that I love you well through that process. Whether through dancing together, or sitting together as you start to tug at the end of a tangled string that just may unravel your life, before it’s put back together again.
I love you and I’m here for you.