notes on movement + stillness
Let’s face it; most of our lives are stagnant. When we work, drive, eat, and relax, our bodies are still. And while stillness is not something to look down on--ask anyone who enjoys an early morning swim in the ocean--everything in life requires balance. We need stillness to recharge, regroup, and refresh, and I dare to say that for those same reasons, we need movement.
The definition of movement is pretty simple: “the act, process, or result of moving.” Take note that it does not mention keeping a certain pace on a run, squatting above one’s body weight, or holding a plank for a set amount of time. What this definition succeeds in is that it illustrates the complex yet simple nature of movement. Movement is what you, the mover, make it.
My realization of the importance of movement came way before I was even able to realize it. I had always been an active child, notorious for doing handstands and cartwheels all over the house, so much so that my parents got used to the constant banging from floor to ceiling. I played outside every night that I could, ran around all day at camp, and at the age of five, picked up my first tennis racket. Looking back, I now see that it was tennis that gave me the insight I now have when it comes to movement; movement is not just physical but mental. I sought refuge in my weekly tennis lessons. Being able to channel my energy, take out my stress, and leave everything on the court was the catharsis that I did not know I needed.
Coming off of my senior season, I took a break from playing tennis my freshman year of college. I had played tennis for as long as I could remember and knew that I needed something to fill that gap. So, I turned to group fitness classes at the college gym. It started with a cycling class that I convinced my friend to go to with me, and it quickly evolved into me trying every class on the schedule. I couldn’t stay away. Used to going to the gym on my own, putting in my headphones, and doing my own workouts based on the basic repertoire of moves that I had learned, I fell in love with the atmosphere of group fitness classes. I loved that I was with other people, that there was no thinking involved, and that I was to be held accountable to show up both mentally and physically during the entire duration of the class. I looked up to the instructors who always came to class with the ability to motivate me even when I was not able to motivate myself.
Fast forward to the spring of my junior year of college. I was in my regular 6:30AM Friday morning Pilates class. It started with a simple question to the instructor of “So how did you get certified to teach this class?” and ended with an interview scheduled with the director of recreation fitness for later that week. I had no certifications whatsoever but succeeded in getting offered a position and two time slots to teach Barre on the group fitness class schedule the following fall.
That was almost two years ago. Since then, I have taught hundreds of classes--both in person and online--and have now taught three different class formats: Barre, HIIT, and Butts n Guts. I have learned how to translate my passion for teaching into my fitness classes. I have taught classes to some of my friends and family members and have made great friends from teaching my classes. Above all, I’ve found a way to inspire others to move their bodies, channel their energy, and prioritize their well-being.
In sharing my story about how I have transformed from that little kid who did cartwheels in her room to the group fitness instructor, I hope to bring light to the fact that movement is transformative. It is binary, both physical and mental. Now more than ever, we need to be our own biggest motivators. Find something that you and your body love to do. What works for one person might not work for everyone. Make progress. Even the smallest bit of movement can work wonders. Try new things. Do not be afraid to try something that scares you. Go back, and try it again and again. Most importantly, have fun with it. Workout clothes, a trendy water bottle, and a banging playlist go a long way. Whatever you do, listen to your body, and always remember to take care.
The definition of stillness is pretty simple: “the absence of motion.” Paradoxically, what this definition succeeds in is that it illustrates the ways in which stillness and movement interact. We cannot have one without the other. In the same way that we value the early morning ocean that appears to be just one straight sparkling line, we cannot appreciate that stillness without the constant hum and crash of the waves bringing movement to shore.
TCFN!