On Yoga

There hasn't been any significant yoga here in a long long time - in this space, or in my body.

From time to time I roll out my mat, but not with any regularity, and not with real commitment. My limbs are tight and stiff and protest the simplest of actions. My heart is tight and stiff, and my intent is sluggish and uncommitted.

I hurt. I ache. Physically and mentally. 'Go to a yoga class' you might logically suggest. But I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed of the way my body looks and I'm embarrassed of the way my body moves - or doesn't move. This body has never been terribly thin or lean, but she has been strong, and she has been flexible. She has performed on the mat with grace and presence and beauty, that uncoiled from the inside out.

She is now tired and heavy, stiff and tight. This is how I found myself - my new self - on my mat recently, on the deck in the misting rain, and I realized this was an opportunity. This moment was my opportunity to really practice yoga - not the yoga of soaring headstands, deep cleansing twists, and breakthrough wheels, but the yoga of commitment and compassion. This was my opportunity to open my heart to myself and lovingly accept that 'this is my uttanasana (forward bend),' 'this is my adho mukha svanasana (downward facing dog),' 'this is my trikonasana (triangle).' This is my yoga practice. This was my opportunity to let go of my expectations of what my body should be able to do and what my body should look like. This was my opportunity to be present in this body and on my mat in this moment.

From this place is where the real yoga is practiced. It's easy to 'do yoga' when your body is fit and beautiful and will do what you ask of it. It's easy to make the yoga physical and forget about the yoga that needs to happen inside. It's easy to forget that there are 8 limbs of yoga and only one of those is the physical practice of asana (poses).

I am led back to my mat more often now - even if it's only for a few minutes. It is a connection that I am rebuilding and redefining for myself. And I give you this gift today - the gift of freedom from expectations. Discover or rediscover your 'mat,' your space where you can take even just 5 minutes to be - without fear, without judgement, without expectation; a space where you can reconnect.

Namaste

Assholery, Mindfulness and Giggles

My kids need sleep - lots of it. When there is not enough, my kind, funny children become unrecognizable. The challenge is in not reacting. That seems to be one of my biggest ongoing parenting challenges.

This morning, I had one crying that he couldn't go to school because he felt like he was going to throw up, and the other wouldn't get out of bed. When #2 did finally get out of bed and get dressed, I was sure that his body had been snatched in the night by some evil, word-weapon throwing ninja. It was a morning of opportunity for mama - opportunity to practice all the patience I could muster, opportunity to enlist the help of my breath and my many mornings of quiet meditation. Proud that I didn't raise my voice, or use the self-righteous 'mom tone,' I decided in the car that we all might need a short meditation on the way to school.

I envisioned us riding quietly in the car, inhaling and exhaling together and my brightly shining, centered, focused children would thank their dear mother for her brilliance, tell me how much they needed that self check-in, and step lithely from the car, into their day with mindfulness and intent. (Are you laughing yet?)

Here's what really happened. I fumbled with the phone/car connection for about 5 minutes while they fought over fidget spinners in the back seat. When I finally decided to give up and get going so they wouldn't be late for school, Mr. Attitude had to have the last word and uttered a nasty 'yay' as I informed them with false brightness that we'd just have to meditate tomorrow.

I pushed the button to switch back to radio and out of the speakers slurred a too airy voice, like the voice of Girl God, 'This is a guided meditation for anger.' There was a surprised silence for a moment as I lowered the volume. Then the giggles began. Every time she said something, the long pause before her next words was filled with giggles. Each thing she said was more hilarious than the last. But -- they were giggling together!

Mr. "I'm Gonna Pull Out All The Stops To Stay Home Today" and Mr. "I'm Gonna Be A Big Fat Ass And Try To Get You To Yell At Me So I Can Be A Victim", forgot about their agendas and were sharing a joke. I started to turn it off and let them listen to music, but they were repeating nearly everything she said and dissolving into piles of giggles over and over again. The thing was, even tho they were turning it into a big joke, they were hearing her.

"Give the anger space?" "Here, Anger, here's some space."
"Let the anger be with you?" "OK, come on, Anger. Let's go."

Maybe it didn't turn out quite the way I envisioned, but they took what they needed from what I offered and turned it into what worked for them. And I was able to sit back and let them. Now isn't THAT really one of the biggest challenges of parenting?

Yes, this is a shameless self pat on the back for mama, but we all need those much more often than we get them!