There’s a reason The Class tends to stay with people long after they’ve taken it. It’s not just the physical intensity or the music. It’s the way the experience lands internally, often in places people didn’t realize they were holding anything at all. For Taryn Toomey, that depth is familiar, even if the language around it isn’t always straightforward.

“This has always been a hard one for me,” she says when asked to describe The Class. “To me, it’s a ceremony, but I know that word gets lost on many.” When she explains it more practically, the framing becomes grounded and clear. “It’s a music driven, cathartic workout where we exercise the body to steady the mind and open the heart. We burn a fire to get the sludge out so you can feel free.”

That balance between physical effort and internal awareness has defined The Class since it began in 2011. People arrive to move their bodies, but what they often leave with is a deeper sense of presence and release, without being asked to perform or perfect anything along the way.

This conversation is part of Chalkboard’s In Conversation series, featuring discussions with thought leaders on specific topics in wellness and personal practices. For more from the series, explore In Conversation: What Human Design Reveals About Energy, Timing, and Trust with Amy Lea.

Letting the Work Be Specific

Turning something intuitive into a real business required a different kind of discipline. For Toomey, the challenge wasn’t logistics or growth. It was learning to let the work remain specific rather than universally appealing.

“Accepting that the energy I move doesn’t need to resonate with everyone,” she says. That realization became foundational, shaping how The Class evolved and allowing it to grow without dilution. Instead of trying to explain or soften the experience, she stayed close to what felt true and trusted the community to form naturally around it.

That choice continues to define the work today. The Class doesn’t aim to be everything to everyone. It offers a clear experience and lets people decide if it’s for them.

Why It Has Nothing to Do with How You Look

One of the first assumptions many people bring into the room is that the experience will be about how they look or how well they execute the movements. Toomey is quick to correct that expectation.

“The biggest misconception is that it has anything to do with how you look,” she says. Instead, attention moves inward. She guides people to track sensation rather than perfect movement, shifting the focus from form to awareness. “When people actually feel sensation, they become more connected to the body,” she explains. “Presence becomes easier to access, which allows for deeper integration.”

The practice isn’t about getting anything right. It’s about staying with what’s happening and letting the body lead the experience rather than the mirror or the mind.

When Breakthroughs Happen

There’s no fixed timeline for when something shifts during class. For some people, it takes time. For others, it happens almost immediately.

“Generally about a third of the way in,” Toomey says. “But sometimes the first beat hits people right away.” What determines that moment varies. “It really depends on how long someone has been practicing embodiment and what energy they’re working with that day.”

That variability is part of the work. The experience meets people where they are, rather than pushing them toward a predetermined emotional or physical outcome.

Music as the Structure

Music plays a central role in shaping the experience. It isn’t background or motivation layered on top of the movement. It’s the structure that carries the class from start to finish.

“It’s about the tapestry of the playlist,” Toomey says. “It’s not about one song.” She thinks in arcs rather than moments, describing the flow as “deep diving and high expansion.” The music supports both regulation and release over time, without forcing either.

The result is an experience where sound and movement work together, guiding the body without overpowering it.

Who The Class Is For

The Class tends to resonate with people who want to move without being told what their bodies should look like and who are open to paying attention to what they feel. Some come with years of embodiment practice behind them, while others are encountering this kind of work for the first time.

As Toomey puts it, the experience meets people based on “how long someone has been practicing embodiment and what energy they’re working with that day.” There’s no right place to start and no expectation to arrive at a certain level.

Bringing the Practice Into Everyday Life

The principles of The Class aren’t meant to stay contained within the studio. When asked how people can bring the practice into daily life, Toomey keeps it simple and physical.

“Soften the tops of your shoulders,” she says. “Notice when you’re stuck in a loop of thinking and interrupt it with breath. Flutter out your lips. Sigh loudly.” One of the cues she returns to most is placing a hand on the heart. “Stay there,” she says. “Speak from that place.”

These cues offer small ways to return to the body throughout the day, without needing a formal practice or set amount of time.

How the Work Shows Up in Her Own Life

Supporting herself starts with consistency. Meditation is Toomey’s non negotiable, whether it happens in the morning or the evening. Her supplement routine is equally straightforward and supportive: a probiotic, vitamin B, vitamin D, fish oil, and magnesium at night. When it comes to burnout, her advice is practical and unambiguous. “Sleep,” she says. “Replace the word sleep with repair.” For her, that means preparing well before bedtime. “Two hours before bedtime, start preparation. Buy an alarm clock and put your phone in another room.”

Over time, building and teaching The Class has also changed how she relates to herself internally. “I’ve gotten in a really close relationship to the young parts of myself that come online when I’m activated,” she says. That awareness now shows up daily. “I have much faster access to them,” she adds. “I try to love them well.” It’s a way of caring for herself that mirrors the work she offers others, rooted in attention, regulation, and staying present rather than pushing through.