2020 realignment
As a teen of the TV generation, I listened as Oprah offered an astute observation that’s stuck with me. It goes something like this:
Life will give you opportunities to learn a lesson.
At first, the opportunity will be a pebble in your shoe.
If you fail to notice the pebble, you will then trip over a rock.
The rock — and its impact on your life — will continue to grow until its presence is undeniable, and change happens.
I don’t particularly appreciate dealing with big rocks, so for the last thirty years, I’ve done my best to notice the pebbles. Still, the end of 2019 was a pretty big rock.
I came down with the flu. And then, pneumonia. It wasn’t walking pneumonia. It was let’s-try-to-keep-you-out-of-the-hospital pneumonia that put me out of commission for nearly a month.
I prefer to be on the go and doing, so when I found myself in an extended, feverish state, I was more than a tad miffed. Recovering isn’t doing, I protested in my head until the doctor made an odd statement. You’ll know you’re getting better when you can get a glass of water for yourself without needing a nap. Say what?! She estimated that it would be another five days before that happened. Ok, then, boulder noted.
I canceled most December commitments to focus on recovery. (This sounds familiar… maybe there was a smaller rock before that I didn’t internalize?) Over the last month, I’ve realized I need to change. The timing is also amusing, maybe serendipitous, with the start of a new year and decade.
At first, still mad about having to rest, I was looking at 2020 as a year of reckoning, dealing with a host of pebbles, rocks, and boulders. But, as I started to settle and heal, I consciously decided to reframe 2020 into a year of realignment. When I chose to switch the word, my perspective shifted too. I began to wonder, how can I build a sustainable life so I can continue to show up with compassion for others?
Somewhere in 2019, I veered off track. Compassion wasn’t sustainable and sometimes not even compassion at all but fear. I turned around and looked fear in the face. I owned up to the parts I’ve played in situations and have started to move toward realigning.
In my fear of making the studio space sustainable, I didn’t fully appreciate how the cost of classes impacted your access to services. Although I did plenty of research, crunched tons of numbers, and tried to find the middle ground, I missed the mark. I’m not at my best looking through a linear lens of fear. Instead, I’m shifting my focus to lead with compassion and creativity. Here’s a snapshot of what that means for individual sessions and classes:
investment amount for all sessions and classes reduced up to 25%
Sessions and classes are an investment in your wellness. Hopefully, a reduced cost makes them more sustainable too.
community pricing introduced
You can choose an investment amount that aligns with your financial access and wellness needs. No proof of income required.
pay per class, not per series
You can decide how many classes work for you.
new classes added
People who appreciate the practice but don’t identify as trauma survivors are welcome. TCTSY classes remain for survivors only.
new online class starting in January
Practice in your own space live on Friday mornings or at your convenience throughout the week.
new website
The new platform makes navigation and registering for services more accessible. There’s also plenty of room to offer expanded information and services.
I’m curious, how do these changes land for you? You’re welcome, as always, to reach out and let me know. I hear your feedback, and I take it to heart.
. . .
The following excerpt is from a blog post in August 2018. It embraces how I feel heading into 2020.
I believe the power of service can offer profound healing. This wisdom is summed up beautifully in Twelve Step: “You can’t keep what you don’t give away.”
There’s a miracle that happens when people show up in class exactly as they are, joyful or struggling. I bring what I have to offer. Each individual brings what they have to offer. Somewhere, in the exchange of questions and answers, in the sharing of space and practice, all of us have the opportunity to discover something new or to clarify something old. All of us have the opportunity to see, to be seen, and to be of service.
Not only am I honored to hold space where this has room to grow, I’m humbled. I’m healed.
And I’m most definitely grateful.
. . .
Thank you for 2019. I’m looking forward to continuing in 2020.