Lessons from Movement: What My Body Has Been Trying to Teach Me All Along

I used to think movement was punishment.

Something I had to do to earn a slice of cake or deserve self-love. I forced my body into workouts, pushed through pain, and celebrated soreness like it was some sort of badge of honor. And while discipline has its place, I’ve come to learn that true movement—sacred, joyful, intentional movement—isn’t about force.

It’s about flow.

It’s about tuning in rather than pushing through. Listening, not demanding. Dancing, not dragging. Somewhere between breath and sweat, I began to understand that movement isn’t just physical—it’s deeply spiritual. It’s a mirror. A metaphor. A form of becoming.

Here are some lessons I’ve gathered on the mat, in the studio, on the trail, and in the quiet places of my own soul.

Lesson 1: Yoga taught me to go within.

My yoga mat became my sanctuary. Each class, each pose, each breath invited me to turn inward. To be fully present. To feel my emotions tucked into my hips and shoulders, and to gently breathe them out. Yoga reminded me that healing doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic. Sometimes, it’s in the stillness. Sometimes, it’s in the silence between stretches.

Lesson 2: Acroyoga taught me trust, focus, and surrender.

There’s something sacred about trusting another human to hold your body in the air. Acroyoga isn’t just about balance and strength—it’s about communication, eye contact, breath syncing. I learned to let go. To support and be supported. To focus my energy, stabilize from the core, and still smile mid-air. Trusting someone else started teaching me how to trust myself.

Lesson 3: Tabata reminds me that my heart is a warrior.

There’s something so satisfying about Tabata—those bursts of high intensity, the sweat, the burn, the fire. I can feel my heart pounding like a drum, reminding me I’m alive, powerful, resilient. I love how it pushes me to my edge in just a few minutes. It’s my go-to when I need a reset. A rhythm. A release.

Lesson 4: Lifting heavy makes me feel unstoppable.

There’s this beautiful moment when the bar is loaded, and my mind tries to tell me, “You can’t.” But my body responds, “Watch me.” Lifting isn’t just about strength. It’s about becoming. Every deadlift, every squat, every push teaches me that I am stronger than I think. That I can hold weight and not break. That I am not delicate—I am durable.

Lesson 5: Stillness is movement too.

Movement isn’t always motion. Sometimes it’s sitting in silence after a powerful flow. Sometimes it’s laying in Savasana, letting everything settle. I’ve learned to honor rest. To recognize the wisdom in stillness. Because sometimes, being still is the most courageous movement of all.

So here’s to all the ways we move—on mats, in the air, under iron, in bursts, in stillness. May we move not just to change how we look, but to remember how it feels to be fully, joyfully, gloriously alive.

With heart & flow,

Dee❤️