Ditch the Lecture, Feel the Truth

I’m at a health conference, and some movement expert’s yammering away about why we need to move, spouting science while we’re all stuck in chairs, stiff as boards from sitting all day. What do you know? I’m bored out of my mind, itching to yell, “Stop telling us—just get us up and moving! Let us feel it!” I guess I’m just venting. I believe in experiencing what I’m teaching—the dancer and actress in me, I guess. It’s how I roll: experiential—get it in your body, and you’ll get it. Knowledge isn’t just in our brains; it’s in every cell of our bodies. The best way to learn is to have the physical and mental experience. Okay, done venting.

Our bodies are meant to move; it’s intuitive, not some lecture’s blah, blah, blah. I’ve spilled that science tea before—check my What is Fitness? blog, if you’re into it. But the real question is: why aren’t we acting on what we already know? We know our bodies are built to move. It’s a deeper knowing, hardwired in us. Watch a baby toddle; she doesn’t Google “benefits of walking.” She just goes, driven by instinct.

Most people get stuck not because they’re clueless, but because they don’t act. Beliefs like “I’m not athletic” or “I’m too old” chain us down. The mind’s a sneaky beast, but there’s a way through, and it starts with a story that yanked me out of my darkest hole.

My Darkest Hour, Luigi’s a Light

I was at my lowest when doctors said I’d end up in a wheelchair, my dancing days done. Hope was a ghost, and I was drowning in “can’t,” convinced I’d never move again. Imagine how you would feel if you thought your body was done for. In that pit, God brought me Luigi—Eugene Louis Faccuito—a jazz dancer whose comeback became my lifeline. His story wasn’t just inspiration; it was a kick in the pants to listen to my inner knowing and fight. Maybe his story—his grit and faith— moves you, like it did me.

Luigi’s Comeback That Lit a Fire

Alright, let’s talk about Luigi—Eugene Faccuito to his mom—a scrappy Ohio kid born in 1925 to Italian immigrant parents, handsome, talented, and destined to be a star. Picture him as a kid, singing and dancing on street corners after his dad died in a car accident in 1930, hustling to help his family. By his teens, he’s winning amateur contests, filling in for Dean Martin with big bands, and touring as a vaudeville performer—all before 20. In 1946, after his WWII Navy service, he hits Hollywood at the age of 21.

With looks, talent, everything that would make him a star, he was ready to light up movie musicals—until a car crash flips his world.

Thrown from the passenger seat on a rainy Los Angeles street, he hits the pavement head first, skidding into a telephone pole. A shattered skull, two-month coma, and paralysis down one side leave him crumpled. Docs swear he’ll never walk again. His face stays scarred, double vision killing his leading-man dreams.

Luigi’s stuck in a hospital bed, body betraying him, but something—grit, God, or gut—whispers, “Never stop moving, kid.” It’s a lifeline, and he grabs it like it’s his last shot. He starts small, twitching fingers, stretching arms, forcing his body to wake up. He’s not chasing lab-coat stats; he’s leaning into that raw, gut-level knowing, the kind that gets a baby on her feet. He convinces a friend who owns a dance studio to let him train there, and let me tell you, he falls so many times he bloodies the floors.

But through those falls, over three years, he develops therapeutic stretches, a process of breathing and movement, teaching himself to stand at the barre, then move on his own. In a year, he’s shuffling, then strutting, training like his life’s on the line.

By 1949, a talent scout catches him, and bam—he’s dancing in the chorus of MGM’s On the Town with Gene Kelly, who dubs him “Luigi” to dodge a name clash.

On set, those stretches keep him moving, and soon, dancers—10, 20 at a time—are copying him, drawn to his flow. Choreographer Robert Alton sees it and says, “That’s a style—teach it.”

By 1951, Luigi’s running jazz classes in L.A., then hits New York in 1956 for Broadway. His studio becomes a hotspot, not just for stars like Liza Minnelli, Twyla Tharp, and John Travolta, but for regular folks—people recovering from strokes and injuries—who came to him to rebuild their bodies with his technique.

His method, born from those bloody studio floors, becomes the world’s first real jazz dance system—alignment, balance, “feeling from the inside,” as he’d say: “To dance, put your hand on your heart and listen to the sound of your soul.” He even gives us the “5, 6, 7, 8” count we all know. Luigi didn’t just get back on his feet; he danced his way into history, building jazz dance with a fire that screams, “Keep moving, no matter what.” The New York Times called him “the father of American jazz dancing” when he passed at 90 on April 7, 2015, leaving a legacy that still moves us.

My Comeback Fire

Luigi’s story was a lifeline when I was facing a future confined to a wheelchair, my dancing days seemingly over. I wasn’t stuck from ignorance—I knew movement mattered. It was fear and a head full of “can’t” that held me down. Luigi’s fight—dragging himself from paralysis through sheer will—shoved me off the sidelines. If he could move again, who was I to quit? His words, “Never stop moving, kid,” burned in me, pushing me to act on my own knowing. It took me two years, but I regained my strength to walk and dance again. To honor the man who sparked my comeback, I got certified in the Luigi technique and now share his moves in my Steps~n~Styles dance class, passing on that grit, joy, and passion to keep moving, no matter what. It’s not about flashy steps; it’s about tapping into that inner fire and acting on it.

Why We Don’t Move

It’s not a lack of knowledge holding us back—our bodies ache to move, like a kid chasing her first steps. Knowledge itself can be paralyzing, piling on reasons that keep us stuck. The real hurdle is those beliefs we drag around like overstuffed suitcases: “I’m not athletic,” “I’m too old,” “I’ll look ridiculous.” Those thoughts are mental quicksand, sinking us before we start. We overthink until the cows come home, but the truth is, you don’t need to be a gym rat or a dancer like Luigi, and you don’t need more reasons why. You just need to listen to that gut-deep knowing screaming or gently whispering, “Get moving!” and take the first step.

Takeaways to Get Moving

Movement is your birthright, not a chore. Forget the expert lectures spouting science like I heard at that conference—your body already knows what to do. These aren’t rules—they’re your nudge to act on that inner knowing, not some PhD’s playbook. Get moving, as Luigi said. Just keep moving.

Here’s how to ditch the excuses and start, relying on you, not some expert’s knowledge:

• Call Out the Lie: Write down one belief holding you back (e.g., “I’m not fit enough”). Flip it to “I can move my way.” Stick it on your fridge.
• Start Stupid Small: Commit to 5 minutes—walk to the mailbox, stretch during a commercial, or boogie to a tune. Small wins spark fire.
• Channel Luigi: When doubt creeps in, hear Luigi’s “Never stop moving, kid.” If he beat paralysis, what’s anyone’s excuse?
• Pick Your Joy: Choose a movement you like—garden, dance to Motown, or chase the dog. If it’s fun, you’ll keep going.
• Claim Your Space: Clear a corner in your home for movement. A rug or open floor says, “This is where I move.”
• Own the Win: After moving, give yourself a mental high-five. You’re not just exercising—you’re honoring your body’s—and spirit’s—spark.

Join My Wise & Wild Path

I’m all about real ways to live who we were designed to be—with a nod to grit and heart. Luigi’s story proves our intuition drives us to move. Just imagine what you could spark by acting on your own knowing. Want more to spark your body’s and soul’s fire? Check out SPBTV-Your Holistic Living Network for classes and programs to get you moving and living with joy (and without the boring lectures). Want to go deeper? Check out my Leading Lady Experience Live group coaching program, designed for women who are ready to become the Leading Lady of their lives.

And if you want more quick tips for your holistic living journey? Sign up for my newsletter and check out Sharise Uncut. Let’s move like we mean it, with fire.