The Surprise I Didn’t See Coming!

I’ve been performing since I was five years old.

FIVE!

The stage has always been home. The lights, the laughter, the energy in a room when something lands. That immediate feedback from an audience—those laughs, that collective breath, that electric “yes”—it feeds me. It always has. I still love being onstage. I don’t feel done with it. Not even close.

And yet.

Somewhere along the way, something unexpected happened.

I started finding more fulfillment in front of the classroom (although — I usually stand in the back, but you get what I mean).

That surprised me. Truly. Because performing has been such a defining throughline of my life. It’s how I learned who I was, how I learned to listen, how I learned to connect. So discovering that teaching was lighting me up in a different—sometimes deeper—way caught me a little off guard.

There’s something profoundly moving about sharing the thing you love most and watching it take root in someone else.

When a class is fearless—when they try something new without knowing how it’s going to land—my heart soars. When someone gets what I’m saying, not just intellectually but viscerally, and you can see the shift happen in real time… I do a little dance inside. (Sometimes a big one. Depends on the day.)

Watching people grow.

Watching them evolve.

Watching them make corrections, take risks, and surprise themselves.

That uplifts me.

Teaching isn’t about standing in front of a room with answers. It’s about creating space where people feel brave enough to listen to themselves, to trust their instincts, and to push just a little further than they thought they could. When that happens—when a room clicks, when curiosity outweighs fear—it’s electric in its own way.

Different from applause.

Quieter, maybe.

But lasting.

I don’t believe I have to choose one over the other. Performing and teaching feed each other. They always have. Being onstage sharpens my teaching; teaching deepens my work onstage.

But lately, I’ve noticed where my energy lingers. What moments stay with me longer than the applause. What fills me up in a quieter, steadier way.

I’m not rushing to name it.

I don’t need a conclusion yet.

I’m just paying attention.

If I ever have to choose between teaching and performing, it would obviously be…