Called Home

By the time I found TCC, my stress levels had been building for years. I was so in my head that I had no sensation of my feet. During classes, I felt a peaceful flow of energy; during the week, I noticed improved mental health. I didn’t believe my teacher when she predicted I would become a teacher someday.

Then my mother-in-law passed away after a protracted stroke recovery. We left our home because of toxic mold hazards. My nervous system crashed; I couldn’t walk, drive or handle daily tasks. My teacher started with the smallest hint of movements, sitting almost reclined. Aha, I could feel the Chi again; I had been working harder and harder to find what was there all along.

I listened to what my body was telling me. At my first group practice, lying back in my gravity chair, I mentally stepped back, not pushing to do it better or right. It was like stepping off a raft onto solid ground. I felt calm and centered, and my legs stayed stronger for days. Something magical happens when a group of us are in our feet, moving at the same time. I fell in love with TCC. I was home.

I became a teacher partially because I didn’t want to be left behind. I didn’t feel ready. I thought being a teacher meant being an expert, which was daunting. I wanted to stay a student. How would my health hold up under added activity? Indeed, life complicated itself further before accreditation. My nervous system showed signs of collapse. I pulled out my walking sticks and awkwardly but determinedly entered training… wondering how I would get through the week.

I never imagined that instead of trying to become an expert, I’d be shown the path home, that I’d find people waiting for me. In short, accreditation was transformative. I sank into the movements and did my best to stay present. I collected nuggets of insight from Daniel and other teachers and students. I survived my presentation. My legs stabilized more each day as I incorporated key changes and experienced staying truly grounded. By the end, I was walking normally, back on solid ground. 

I discovered that the opposite of my fears is true: The best way for me to stay a student is to share; the best self-care is to immerse myself in TCC. I don’t need to know where TCC is taking me; I need simply to follow. How can I not share this with others, especially when I am called home in the process?