The reason I do intensive workshops like Camp Merveilles is as much for the opening of my heart as for the education and euphoria of my body. Exhausting myself through movement tears down walls I haven’t figured out yet how to let go myself. I find this to be the most prayerful, useful place in me.
I feel good. You know, good. I want to do good. I want to take my giant joyful energy and use it to uplift others. I want to honor the sacred in every person I meet.
I’m also left raw, and very vulnerable. I like this place, but I need to balance it with my strength. I never learned how to apply strength in a healthy way. My boldness was so unbecoming of a woman in my culture, and so unlike anyone in my quiet family that I was misunderstood and hated, frankly.
Look, I talk too much. I’m loud! That can be acknowledged, corrected, even teased in loving ways, but it wasn’t for me. “Shut up,” they said. “Be anyone other than who you are. Who you are is shameful, and wrong. Shut UP. Disappear. You have no right.”
My response was anger, and my strength took the shape of aggression. I dominate and domineer with words. I seek experiences like Camp Merveilles because they take me to a place of deep loving tenderness, for myself, for you, for all of us.
I’ve felt the need for balance… forever, not always as such. In my 20s and early 30s, I felt it only as chaos. I was too busy hopping from one crisis to the next to explore it any deeper than that. The last ten years have shown me what I lack, and taught me that I can create it.