My fatal flaw is that even though I have met and accepted my earthly limits. Even though time has proven those limits to me over and over and over again, I STILL believe, no — I know that I MUST believe —
that despite it all, I can fly.
You can fly too. Let me show you how.
The first time I went to see the musical Wicked was twelve years ago.
It was a crisp and warm October.
I was in New York City for my 30th birthday.
I was alone.
I was VERY ALONE.
I was the I just walked away from my marriage of 8 years AND my lifelong religion kind of alone.
My insides were a chaotic symphony of emotion; I was exhilarated with my newly claimed freedom. I was buzzing with the energy of New York — how every street and every face was an endless offering of vitality, possibility and expression.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I could be EXACTLY who I was, because here, in the city that never sleeps, was a place that could ACTUALLY hold me. Here was a place big enough for ALL of my strangeness, and for everyone else’s strangeness, too.
I was also doubled over with grief, guilt, and shock every other moment.
Had I really just done what I’d done?
Had I really just walked away from the only life I had known?
Had I really just irreversibly broken the promise of ‘normalcy’, not only for me but for my three young children aged six, four and two?
Had I really just abandoned everything I had been told to know and to want in pursuit of some song of myself calling me inevitably forward?
Yes, I had.
And because of that death, I felt more alive than I had ever been. I was in the most alive city I had ever been. I was an exposed raw nerve, impossibly wrecked and beautiful.
That day, I walked out of Wicked after the first thirty minutes.
It made me feel too much. I had just made the choice to transform from “good” to wicked. I couldn't bear to see the choice I'd made mirrored back at me from a stage. I could not bear to see the future of rejection and isolation it foretold (st least in Act One).
The second time I went to see Wicked was last Tuesday.
It was a cold and cruel November.
I’d been in a car accident earlier that day. Not my fault, and no one hurt, but my car was totalled. Our holiday plans to drive to my sister’s cabin in Idaho were temporarily thwarted. I’d already been at the end of my emotional and financial rope before the accident. Everyone was raving about the new film, and by god we needed a win. So I did something uncharacteristic and bought the kids and I (now 18, 16 and 14) tickets to a showing WAY past my bedtime (10 pm).
I made it past the first thirty minutes without walking out. But my oldest, Myra, was sobbing by song one. My daughter, who in her own way also feels ‘too much’. My daughter, who is told by so many conventional standards that she is too big and too strange to belong, wept the whole way through.
I didn't know until after the movie that Myra, when she had insomnia as a young adolescent, used to play the soundtrack to Wicked over and over to help her fall asleep.
I thought by leaving my marriage and radically transforming my life to align with my truth, I could save my daughter from the same alienation and loneliness I had felt from trying to fit so many years in a life where I did not belong.
It's bewildering, the things that pass from mother to daughter, despite making every attempt for those exact things to not. It's humbling, the dualistic patterns of life that are seemingly determined to repeat no matter what we do.
And yet—
yet—
yet—
there is an ageless force of spirit steadily calling us toward attempting the impossible anyway.
There is a relentless inner drum of soul-truth in the heart of every self. Only the singular self can hear it. Only the singular self can answer its call.
It is a work no one else can do for you. It is the work of your life. The work of being and becoming yourself, no matter the outcome, no matter what.
I’ve never seen anyone get there without believing, at least for a moment, they can defy gravity.
This is the work I am inviting you to do with me this January in TeethKiss The Class. I believe this work is more vital and urgent than it has ever, ever been.
Because certain forces in the world are determined to trick you out of your power so that they may keep it….
Because certain voices, pressures and demands are trying day and night to get you to be anything other than your most true and stunning self…
Because transformation is as unsettling as it is exhilarating.
This work requires courage.
This work requires heart.
This work requires belief.
This work requires community (that's the class).
This work requires a guide (that's me).
Wicked, the movie, ends with a song called “Defying Gravity”. There is a spell. There is a broom. There is a furious green witch about to attempt flight.
Young Glinda the good witch tries to talk young Elphaba, the wicked witch of the west, out of...becoming herself. Glinda loves Elphaba, but she fears for her safety.
Glinda sings:
Elphie, listen to me, just say you're sorry
You can still be with the wizard
What you've worked and waited for
You can have all you ever wanted
And Elphaba responds:
(I know)
But I don't want it
No, I can't want it anymore
Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap
So the question is, are you a photographer sick of playing by everyone’s rules but your own?
Are you ready to reject the false standard of “good” that has been placed upon you?
Are you ready to trust your instincts above all else?
Is there a voice inside of you, one that’s been trying to come out, trying to take the lead, and you want to let it, but you’re just not exactly sure how?
Did you once feel strong in your voice, but have somehow gotten far from it along the way?
Then TeethKiss The Class may be perfect for you.
Listen, I don't know if it's your time to defy gravity or not. The reality is, these things cannot and should not be forced. But if your heart sped up while reading this…if your gut dropped…if you know you simply cannot go back to sleep…if you are ready to close your eyes and leap…
I would be honored to have you with us in TeethKiss this January. It's the only class I am offering in 2025. And it's on sale for just 48 hours. Read about all the ways you can join (as a live seat, a silent seat, or a much-coveted Fab Four seat where you receive one-on-one attention all month) here. And hit me back with any questions you may have.
Anything is possible,
Yan