Marcelle, whom I wrote about in Embody Courage, passed away last week. She did so with grace, courage and even levity, the same way she showed up in my studio each week to gently move her body, loosen her joints and lift her spirits. I did not know her well or for very long, yet the moment she walked through my doors to learn the movements of Gyrotonic, she became as much my teacher as I was hers.
Her written words were little blessings and gentle goodbyes. “My plan is to be there,” she wrote in a text message about her session, “if not to work out, to see your smiley eyes and pretty face and to share in the wonder of your new space.” She did show up, one last time in May, and we sat in my new studio, bathed in the sunlight that poured through the garage doors. She sat on a little stool, gushing about how beautiful my space was. Love emanated from her emaciated body.
When I couldn’t make it to her birthday party, the last one she celebrated, because I was preparing to leave the country, she wrote: “Dear friend, I am so glad you took care of yourself! Finally, we’re learning to do that!” She went on to wish me a lovely trip to Italy with my daughter, “filled with all the joys and beauty. Trusting that the relationship with your daughter will grow to new intimacy. You have shown me what resilience is like. Thanks for the light that you are and I look forward to its continued brilliance in my life. Love to you. Happy trails. Marcelle.”
The point is not Gyrotonic, but compassion. Gyrotonic is a vehicle — a highly tuned vehicle at that — through which we can share universal healing energy. So when movement was no longer possible for Marcelle, we just sat together in the space of Embody Minneapolis and talked, her vitality shining over the entire studio. Where Gyrotonic ends, a great spirit continues. In the end, we are all energy. Gyrotonic is an excellent way to cultivate and share that healing energy that is available to us all.
Happy trails to you, Marcelle. I will miss you.