Tender Places

Hi, my friends. Listen. Real talk.

I am feeling tender this week.

Big shoutout to the pals in last Sunday's Namaskar class, who co-created a practice in real time that helped me find language for how I've felt all week.

TENDER.

My body is needing extra care.

My feelings are needing extra care.

My thoughts are needing extra care.

All my parts. Needing extra care, support, tenderness.

I like this word.

TENDER.

Because it's like, parts of me feel tender, AND those parts can be met with tenderness.

How does the same word work both ways??

How are you feeling this week?

Do you need anything

Do you need something tangible, or something you can't quite name, or maybe just a little support and tenderness?

I've learned something important from my best yoga mentors, which is not so different from things taught in theatre school, about leaving your junk at the door.

As in, when we show up to teach a yoga class, or lead a rehearsal, or have a meeting, or whatever the thing is that we're doing, we don't make that thing about our own personal story that's going on.

Holding the seat of the teacher, or being any kind of leader, means being present for the people in the room. Making the work about them and what they need. It's a really really special seat to hold. I feel so honored every time I'm able to be the person supporting you.

But then some days, like today, i'm just really (you guessed it) tender, and I don't know how to show up without that.

Here I am. Tender AF.

Sad even though I'm in a place of joy.

Unsure even though I'm in a place of sharing my most favorite thing (yoga).

Feeling scared even though I'm in a place of freedom.

Going through big changes that are wonderful but bring up lots of old things I thought were resolved.

IT'S ALL OKAY!

Nothing is terribly wrong, I have the tools I need to take care of myself. But I figured I wouldn't hide it all from you, in case you feel the same sometimes. In case hitting this one-year mark since a pandemic began running our lives is landing as heavy for you as it is for me.

(tender)

In case you feel this sometimes in your movement and yoga practices.

Sometimes we want a block.

Sometimes we want a pillow.

A blanket.

A different version fo a pose.

To take a break.

To cry in savasana.

To skip savasana.

To stay in savasana.

Sometimes instead we need to stand up and dance it out.

Shout it out.

Stomp it out.

To get loud.

To make noise.

To be WAY TOO MUCH.

AND THAT IS ALL OKAY, TOO!

I guess i just mean to say:

let's be tender together.