I've been performing since I was about five years old, which also happens to be when my parents divorced. Being the youngest of three, it's easy to imagine why I was drawn to the stage, although I believe there are deeper, more mysterious forces at play than psychology alone can explain. For one, I didn't come from a family of performers or artists, yet I inherently understood the power of being seen from early on. The amazing part of my story is that I've never stopped performing since then, even though, truthfully, I didn't enjoy it.
You would never have heard me say, "The stage is my destiny!" or "I live to perform!" In fact, I rarely enjoyed performing—even through full-time work as a dancer on world tours. What I actually loved was rehearsals and the collaborative, hard-working team environment. Performing, being seen, however, was incredibly activating. Before a show, I was controlling and hyper-focused on perfection. During the show, I felt disconnected and numb. And afterward, I was filled with disappointment and self-criticism.
So why then, did I keep doing it? Something kept pulling me back to performing, over and over again. Even though I loved the rehearsal process, I barely tolerated performing itself. This is a classic example of a trauma pattern: repeating a behavior even when it's unsatisfying or unhealthy, because our nervous system is trying to “figure something out”, trying to resolve an incomplete response. Performance, by its nature, can create a vulnerable, even primal, "life or death" feeling. But deep down, I knew something else was possible—that I could eventually enjoy performing. I became deeply curious about what kept me stuck in this pattern and what wisdom I could uncover.
My curiosity led me to explore various somatic practices, seeking to understand the inner forces that shape our choices and how we move through life. Through my work with clients, I realized that the countless hours spent being seen in performance had actually honed my ability to truly see others the way I had always longed to be seen. In essence, I learned to be seen by learning how to see.
In my early twenties, I became a somatic practitioner and found deep nourishment in the role of witness. Now, 25 years later, as an Authentic Movement practitioner, Somatic Experiencing Practitioner, Yoga Therapist, I am still a dancer and performer. But the difference is, I now enjoy performing. It only took about 40 years!
My intention with this weekend immersion with Luis is to help you become more embodied performers who are nourished by performance, not strung out by it. We'll explore how we see ourselves in the act of being seen, and how to interpret our body's needs before, during, and after a performance. Instead of riding the rollercoaster of highs and lows, and relying on unhealthy coping mechanisms to manage the intensity of being in front of an audience, you can find safety and pleasure in your body and in the very generous act of allowing yourself to be truly seen.Me performing at 4, at 27 and at 48
