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3/18/2026 3 Comments Movement for a World on Fire With International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month, March always ignites my Girls on Fire work. This theme has a year-round presence at Spiral Studio, from our lending library and picture of Octavia Butler on our back wall to many of our oracle decks—reminders of the heroines who inspire us to show up fully. When my Girls on Fire book was published in 2018, the timing seemed to be fortuitous. For years I had been teaching about the dystopic qualities of the U.S. through a Girls on Fire lens and arguing that there are many places in the world that are living the kinds of dystopian realities that Girls on Fire navigate in fictional contexts. Many people would say that they don’t want to read dystopian fiction because it is too dark and depressing, but I have always experienced these novels as the opposite. For those of us who love to read young adult dystopian fiction, we find possibility and hope—for the future, but perhaps even more so for the present. I hoped that my Girls on Fire work would inspire people to work together to build a better future. And maybe it did. . . . For several years I taught college classes on the theme of Girls on Fire and they were always full. I also taught yoga and dance classes, combining embodied movement with inspirational and aspirational ideas. When I went to Denmark on a Fulbright grant, I engaged with European graduate students and our Girls on Fire work was featured in a collection of essays that I collaborated on with a colleague. We were working on the final edits for Teaching Girls on Fire in 2020, just as the COVID-19 stay at home orders were issued and we added a paragraph to our preface: In the time between the completion of this book and the final edits, the world has changed. The COVID-19 pandemic has made dystopia all the more real. . . . Resiliency, community, agency, and self-care are just some of the Girls on Fire lessons we can teach our youth and ourselves. As Katniss reminds the powers that be in her world, and many memes remind us in our world, “If we burn, you burn with us!” This is a promise as much as it is a threat. We’re all in this together and the future is bright when we help our girls burn brighter. But this message was subsumed by the very real fears and challenges that people were facing. All of the inspiration that we gathered together fell off of people’s radars. The COVID-19 pandemic might have been the first experience that many Americans had with the realities of dystopia. And then Trump’s second term began and, once again, the world is on fire. Only this time the theme isn’t about disease, with a side of institutional racism. It’s about fascism, the climate crisis, war, economic struggles, identity and culture, ideological battles, and more. Today, the world on fire is, to say the least, a lot. Perhaps this is why I am feeling the Girls on Fire theme even more acutely this year. People need hope more than ever. Once again, we’re struggling with the ongoing mental health crisis, the increasing divide between the polarized, political left and right, and the attacks on our beliefs and our bodies. * At first glance, the connection between Girls on Fire—the transformative heroines of young adult dystopian literature—and our embodied movement practices may seem unlikely. But these are exactly the kinds of connections that make Spiral Studio so unique. On March 8, in Spiral Flow Yoga, we embodied women warriors like Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games, brandishing our bow and arrow to target our goals and standing in a superhero pose grounded in the skills and strengths we each bring to the world. At Evolve on March 21st, we will explore the Awaken and Energize theme through meditation and movement inspired by Girls on Fire—celebrating empathy, passion, and courage in the face of fascism, climate crisis, and patriarchal violence. Beyond the studio, I’m teaching a special class at Penobscot Valley Senior College: Burn It All Down without Burning Out: Lessons from YA Dystopia’s Transformational Heroines. This is one of many ways I connect my work at UMA with my creative vision at Spiral Studio, and one of many ways I give back to our community. These connections—between academia and the real world, between ideas and practices, between physical and social movement—are at the heart of how we survive this world and how we build a better one together. * Hope lives in the stories of Girls on Fire, but it also lives in our muscles, just waiting to be released through movement. In Kelly McGonigal’s book, The Joy of Movement, she writes about the ways in which movement actually reshapes our brain to make us more receptive to joy and social connection. When we move together, we embody joy and co-regulate our nervous systems. Joy is amplified; security is embodied. Further, when we move our muscles secrete hormones that “scientists call hope molecules.” Our brain becomes more resilient to stress and our “entire physiology” adjusts to help us to find the “energy, purpose, and courage [we] need to keep going.” Spiral Studio is the critical intersection where yoga, dance, embodied movement, and radical rest take root. It is where we connect to joy and hope, where we write new stories and imagine new possibilities. It is where we move together and hold ourselves accountable to everything that is bigger than we are. It is where we care for ourselves and each other, renewing our emotional, physical, and mental bandwidth every time we show up. How we move matters. If we move out of obligation, out of a desire to get a workout out of the way, we move as an antithesis to joy and hope. If we move in ways that punish our bodies, what else is our movement calling in? If we move in linear, controlled repetitions, what are we embodying? And the less we move, the less likely we are to be moved. At Spiral Studio—and beyond—we are committed to movement that fosters joy, hope, and connection. What we offer is movement that moves us—more than yoga, more than fitness, more than wellness—it is a space to embody courage, resilience, and the fire within us all. Just like our Girls on Fire, we move, we rise, and we ignite. And by doing so we hope to awaken and energize our community to move with us.
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 Sometimes we push so hard—toward excellence, toward growth, toward getting it “right”—because we’ve been taught that pressure is the only path forward. That perfection is the goal. That holding it all together is the only way to succeed.
And in that hustle, we lose track of why we started. Like a business. The grind culture we live in—patriarchal, capitalist, white supremacist—is loud. Its messages sneak in even when we don’t consciously believe them. Even when we know better. And still, they shape how we measure our worth. How we hold ourselves. How we move. Sometimes we push so hard, we forget what it feels like to flow. We forget to soften. And then we beat ourselves up for not practicing the very things we preach. We share words about rest, embodiment, and letting go—while gripping tightly to the edges of our own unraveling. I say we because I know I’m not alone. But right now, I’m writing about me. I’m reminding myself: It’s okay to cry. To break down. To not know. To ask for help—and to receive it. To remember. To imagine. To shift, change, and course-correct. I have to give myself that permission. Because if I can’t soften into a new way of being, how can I expect anyone to trust me to hold space for them to do the same? I don’t lead because I have it all figured out. I lead because I’m walking this path with the people I serve. I teach, facilitate, and create—not from a place of mastery, but from a place of humility, practice, and love. Still, I carry the exhaustion. The ache. The self-doubt. The old stories. The trauma. I tuck it down instead of letting it rise, breathe, and move through me. I push forward when I most need to pause. I strive hardest when I’m nearing burnout. I cling to the vision when I should be leaning into support. But here’s the truth I’m learning: In building Spiral Studio, I’ve also built a space for myself. A community that lifts me up while holding me accountable. A container for healing that includes me. This space reminds me to practice what I offer. To receive what I so freely give. To stop just holding it all—and be held. Because yes, I created Spiral Studio to serve others. But I also created it for myself. I’m part of this community. And I deserve to be nourished by it, too. So, as I continue to do the work, here’s your invitation: Take a breath. Loosen your grip. Let something soften. You don’t have to earn your rest. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to begin—right where you are. ✨ Come as you are. Be real. Be rooted. Move—and be moved.  In my book, Demystifying American Yoga: Embodied Movement for Individual and Collective Transformation, I explore what it means to practice Queer Yoga—powerful, heart-led movement and breath rooted in visibility, healing, and resistance.
One of my greatest influences is Jacoby Ballard, author of A Queer Dharma: Yoga and Meditations for Liberation. Ballard writes, “Society is constantly telling queer and trans people that we shouldn’t exist, through overt and subversive forms of oppression.” That messaging doesn’t just live in the headlines—it settles into our bodies. Even here in Bangor, where we’re held by a supportive community, we’re not untouched by the cultural forces that attempt to shrink or silence queer and trans expression. Queer Yoga offers something radically different: a space to come home to your body, your truth, and your joy. What Is Queer Yoga, Really? There’s no single definition--and that’s the point. Queer Yoga, as I teach it, is infused with my own lived experience: my identity, the symbols and stories that resonate with me, the femme power that grounds my movement. Every Queer Yoga teacher brings their own fire, but at its heart, Queer Yoga is:
Why Trauma-Informed Yoga Matters Ballard reminds us, “Trauma lives in the body, and through embodiment practices those stories can be unlocked.” Queer, trans, and non-binary folks often carry layers of trauma—from rejection, from systemic harm, from the daily micro-injuries of living in a world that wasn't built for us. We don’t just need affirming ideas—we need embodied practices that help us shake loose what’s been held too long. Movement is how we transmute pain into power. It’s how we break cycles of harm, not just in society, but within our own nervous systems. Activism, art, and education are essential. But if we’re not healing the body? We’re leaving part of ourselves behind. The Power of Queer Embodiment As Ballard puts it, yoga connects us to “our growth, pain, and resilience.” It’s a spiral inward and outward—a path that helps us release shame, soften our shields, and reconnect with our human capacity to thrive. Queer Yoga isn’t a performance. It’s a reclamation. Of gender. Of community. Of pleasure, rage, softness, strength. Of the full spectrum of who we are. That’s what we practice at Spiral Studio. Why Femme? Why Now? My class weaves Ballard’s wisdom with a deep celebration of the femme side of the queer spectrum—because that’s where I’ve found my deepest healing. Through the work of building the Spiral Goddess Collective, I’ve learned to honor my softness, my fluidity, my intuitive knowing. This practice is rooted in what author Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore calls “the radical potential to choose one’s gender and one’s sexual and social identities... to create a culture on our terms.” That’s the culture we’re creating at Spiral Studio. A space for authenticity. For courage. For coming home to yourself. Pride at Spiral Studio Join us in celebration, in movement, in community. This Pride season, we’re holding space for all the layers of what it means to be queer—grief and joy, rage and softness, pride and power. 🌀 Queer Yoga — May 22, 7:00–8:15 PM A healing and affirming space for movement, stillness, expression, and connection. 🌀 Generations of Pride Dance & Fundraiser for Bangor Pride — May 31, 7:00–9:00 PM Dance, release, and raise funds for queer joy and community power. 🌀 Bangor Pride Festival — June 29 Visit us at our Spiral Studio table or come to our studio space on the 4th floor of 16 State Street for a quiet, welcoming refuge. Come as you are. Move as you need. Be held, seen, and celebrated. This is Queer Yoga. This is Spiral Studio. This is liberation in motion. |
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March 2026
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