Embracing the Journey: Finding Strength in Every Fall

The Power of Performance

“When you perform, you are out of yourself and more potent, more beautiful. You are for minutes heroic. This is power. This is glory on earth, and it is yours whenever you step on the stage.” — Agnes de Mille

I first encountered this quote during my New York acting days. It helped me embrace the stage and, in turn, life itself. To me, art and life are intertwined. The challenges we face in our art often mirror those we encounter in our daily lives.

These days, I practice my life on the yoga mat. My feet anchor me in the present moment. My heart fearlessly opens. My arms reach for the sky, and I breathe deeply. What could be more powerful than that?

The Dance of Balance

I've always loved Crow Pose (Bakasana), even though I fall on my face more times than I can count. My friends would describe me as a bit of a klutz, especially in heels. But now, with progressive ataxia, falling has taken on a new significance. My balance is no longer something I can take for granted. Every wobble on the mat serves as a reminder of what my body navigates daily.

Still, I keep coming back.

Dreams of Flight

Lately, my dreams have been filled with visions of Crow Pose. In these dreams, I am effortlessly poised, aligned, and completely present. My breath is soft, my gaze steady. There is no fear—only pure bliss and mindfulness. I wake up inspired and wistful, wondering if my body is revealing what’s still possible, even if only in my dreams.

Now, more than ever, I’m determined to find that same feeling in my waking life—not perfection, but presence. Not falling, but learning to rise again with grace.

Daily Challenges

With ataxia, each day brings new challenges. Some days, my balance feels steadier. Other days, my speech is clearer. Yet, I keep showing up. I keep breathing. I keep practicing.

A Lesson from Itzhak Perlman

I was reminded of this truth when I read the story of violinist Itzhak Perlman. In 1995, during a concert at Lincoln Center, one of the strings on his violin suddenly broke. The audience expected him to stop, put on his crutches (having had polio as a child), and leave the stage for a new string or violin.

Instead, he paused, closed his eyes, and signaled the orchestra to continue. He played the entire piece with only three strings—modulating, changing, and creating new sounds as he went. What could have been a disaster transformed into something even more powerful and beautiful.

That night, Perlman demonstrated what it means to keep going when something breaks.

Adapting and Overcoming

I feel a similar truth in my own body. With ataxia, things don’t always function as they once did. But like Perlman, I’m learning that I don’t have to stop. I can adapt. I can find new ways to express myself. I can still create something beautiful.

Whether I’m on a stage or on a yoga mat, the work remains the same: to step into the moment, to be heroic in small ways, and to rise every time I fall.

The Journey Continues

As I navigate this journey, I find strength in vulnerability. Each fall teaches me resilience. Each challenge reveals new possibilities. I embrace the uncertainty, knowing that every stumble is a step toward growth.

In this process, I’ve discovered a supportive community. We share our stories, our struggles, and our triumphs. Together, we empower one another. We celebrate the small victories that often go unnoticed.

Finding Joy in the Process

I’ve learned to find joy in the process, not just the outcome. The yoga mat has become a sanctuary, a place where I can explore my limits and push beyond them. It’s where I connect with my body and my breath, finding peace amidst the chaos.

I invite you to join me on this journey. Let’s embrace our unique paths, celebrate our differences, and support one another. Together, we can create a world where everyone feels valued and accepted.

Let the falling begin.