My last Tai Chi class in Mount Forest was last fall. After that, I took a winter break to heal my heart. My beloved dog passed away, and I spent months grieving. I still feel the loss, but now when I think of him, I can smile, remembering our happy days and joyful moments together.
Returning to teach today was such a wonderful feeling. Being greeted by former students — with hugs, chats, and excitement — reminded me just how much I had missed this. For three months, I practiced alone in my living room. The extreme winter weather kept me indoors, and while my solo practice brought peace and serenity, it was different from the energy of a group.
Leading a practice again, sharing laughter and movement, I felt the joy of flowing together. Tai Chi in a group has a magic that solo practice can’t replicate. I realized how much I love sharing this beautiful modality with others.
The class was free, or by-donation, and I didn’t even think about whether I would receive contributions. I knew I would cover the space rental myself, and that was fine. Yet the students were generous, not because of money, but because of the exchange of energy. One student even returned after leaving the building because she realized she had forgotten to donate. That small gesture perfectly reflected the spirit of our practice — giving and receiving, naturally and joyfully.
This experience reminded me that yes, I love practicing on my own, but I also love teaching and sharing Tai Chi with others. Most of today’s wonderful students will be back on March 16, and I cannot wait to flow together again — another moment of Tai Chi joy in Mount Forest.
Teaching Tai Chi in a group reminds me that movement is more than exercise. It is connection — to our breath, our bodies, and to each other. Today, I felt the unique energy that arises when people flow together, even after months apart.
Grief, winter, and solo practice have their place, but sharing movement brings joy, warmth, and renewal. Students may not realize it, but their presence, laughter, and willingness to try create a space that elevates the practice for everyone.
Over time, I have learned that the most meaningful classes are not the ones where every movement looks perfect. They are the ones where people feel comfortable enough to explore, smile at their mistakes, and continue moving with curiosity.
This is why I teach — not just to guide movements, but to witness and nurture the shared energy, connection, and mindful presence that grows in a room full of people practicing together.
Moments like these remind us how wellness grows quietly in small communities. Explore more stories from my Small Town Wellness series.
By Nelda Rodillo | Author & Creator of Vintage Vitality™