Artist Letter No. 8

Something Shifted This Weekend

On hiding, being seen, and what happens when the body leads.

Hi there,

This past weekend, I led a movement workshop at a conference devoted to transformation.

I almost didn't.

Not because I wasn't invited — I've led workshops at this gathering for five years now. But because I went into the weekend feeling... resigned. Questioning why I was still doing this. Aware that for a long time, I've been saying I want to be out in the world — known, contributing, fully expressed as an artist — while quietly doing everything I could to hide.

Hiding felt safer.

And then Saturday afternoon came, and I stood in front of people from literally all over the World, tuned in on Zoom. I led them through a Dance Alchemy for the Soul experience I called Moving from Me to We.

The practice was simple.

Eyes closed. Gentle movement. Feeling into their own commitments — what they are here for, what they care about — and then opening to sense the commitments of others in the room.

No performing. No watching. Just presence and breath and the body leading.

And what happened in that room was sacred.

One participant shared that she has been living with a physical condition for several years — something she has been self-conscious about, something she knew on some level was connected to deeper patterns.

During the movement, she discovered she was ready to let it go.

Not because I told her to. Not because of a technique. Because her body led her there. And when she spoke, the whole room could feel something shift.

Another participant — a man who uses a wheelchair — shared that he experienced freedom in moving. That the chair, for those moments, was not the limitation he usually experiences it to be. Something in his relationship with his own body had altered.

I do not fully have language for what happened for him. But I could feel it. We all could.

A third participant spoke about her commitment to living from her heart. And as she shared, you could hear it — she was not talking about her heart anymore. She was in it. Fully. The whole space was charged.

I have led workshops like this before.

But something was different this time.

This time, I was not hiding behind the role of facilitator. I was not performing expertise. I was simply... there. Holding the space. Trusting the movement. Trusting them. Trusting myself.

And after the workshop, walking home through the city, I had tears streaming down my face.

Not sad tears. The other kind.

I looked around at the people passing by — strangers — and I did not experience them as strangers. I experienced them as my humanity. People to see. To notice. To grant being to.

I did not feel alone. I felt connected to everything.

I share this because I think many of us carry a version of this.

The desire to be seen — and the fear of being seen.
The longing to share what we have — and the impulse to hide it.
The dream of being fully out in the world — and the safety of staying small.

I have lived in that tension for years.

And something shifted this weekend. Not because I figured it out. But because I finally stopped waiting until I was not afraid.

I let myself be seen anyway.

If you have been holding something back — a voice, a gift, a calling — I just want you to know:

You do not have to wait until you are ready.
You do not have to wait until the fear is gone.
You can let yourself be seen now, even while your hands are shaking.

That is what I am learning.

The body already knows.

If you want to explore what your body knows — in a gentle, held space — I would love to have you there.

Thank you for being here. For reading these letters. For being part of this.

With love,

Kristen

The Dance Alchemist