Before I had children I dabbled in yoga. My body responded to it, but being stupid in my 20s, I dismissed it in favor of a bottomless pit of a relationship. Moved to LA for the “California Experience.” My boyfriend at the time, eventually husband, and I took a beginner’s yoga series together. It was great fun and it reminded me yoga was a good fit. Series ended, work, a wedding, the death of my father, baby, a post-partum melt down - I got swept away by my own life and let it dangle.
When my daughter was 2, we put her in pre-school twice a week, mostly because I was exhausted by a baby who didn’t think sleep was necessary and my husband’s long hours. And, like a lot of moms who find themselves with a few hours to spare, I either didn’t know what to do with myself or I filled it with errands.
One morning, after dropping my daughter off, it hit me that I needed to make the limited time count. I felt depleted in every sense of the word. I opened the Yellow Pages (that’s what we used before Google), found a yoga studio near my home and went to a class. During the vinyasa, I was reminded again of the connection between yoga and myself. When class ended I went to the instructor to thank him for a great class, that now I’d be able to go on with the day with my 2 year old. He said “I wish I’d had a mom that did yoga!”
Light bulb moment. Yoga was no longer on the wait list.
In the movements of yoga, I found it became an artistic expression. It aligned me with God in a way I couldn’t find anywhere else. I felt safe to to ask to stay present and patient, to recognize fear, to ask for the strength and commitment to face challenges, to open my heart, to expand to be of service and to ultimately, give thanks for the beauty and blessings already manifested.
Everyday since then, I still have to ask that I stay non-reactive and less judgmental and when I’m in conflict, to move through to truth. Everyday. I ask that in the daily goings on of raising a family, and in my yoga practice as I see others move into poses with ease while I struggle. Even after more than a dozen years of practice, yoga doesn’t come easy. I can't seem to get that quintessential "yoga butt. "And now age is creeping in, telling me to amend my practice this way and that. I liken it to parenting – even though I’ve been doing this a while now, I’ve never been a parent of this particular stage of a child’s development, and I pray for the insight and action necessary to amend certain tactics and develop new skills to discover the essence of where we are at that moment.
At the end of practice, my palms in Namaste, I get back to center and give thanks for the opportunity to explore Life’s mystery and magic.
And then, I roll up my mat, and get on with my day…
When my daughter was 2, we put her in pre-school twice a week, mostly because I was exhausted by a baby who didn’t think sleep was necessary and my husband’s long hours. And, like a lot of moms who find themselves with a few hours to spare, I either didn’t know what to do with myself or I filled it with errands.
One morning, after dropping my daughter off, it hit me that I needed to make the limited time count. I felt depleted in every sense of the word. I opened the Yellow Pages (that’s what we used before Google), found a yoga studio near my home and went to a class. During the vinyasa, I was reminded again of the connection between yoga and myself. When class ended I went to the instructor to thank him for a great class, that now I’d be able to go on with the day with my 2 year old. He said “I wish I’d had a mom that did yoga!”
Light bulb moment. Yoga was no longer on the wait list.
In the movements of yoga, I found it became an artistic expression. It aligned me with God in a way I couldn’t find anywhere else. I felt safe to to ask to stay present and patient, to recognize fear, to ask for the strength and commitment to face challenges, to open my heart, to expand to be of service and to ultimately, give thanks for the beauty and blessings already manifested.
Everyday since then, I still have to ask that I stay non-reactive and less judgmental and when I’m in conflict, to move through to truth. Everyday. I ask that in the daily goings on of raising a family, and in my yoga practice as I see others move into poses with ease while I struggle. Even after more than a dozen years of practice, yoga doesn’t come easy. I can't seem to get that quintessential "yoga butt. "And now age is creeping in, telling me to amend my practice this way and that. I liken it to parenting – even though I’ve been doing this a while now, I’ve never been a parent of this particular stage of a child’s development, and I pray for the insight and action necessary to amend certain tactics and develop new skills to discover the essence of where we are at that moment.
At the end of practice, my palms in Namaste, I get back to center and give thanks for the opportunity to explore Life’s mystery and magic.
And then, I roll up my mat, and get on with my day…
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