In the quest to find the Zen in motherhood, I encounter obstacles every day. They range from the mind-numbing monotony of tidying up toys, to unfinished to-do lists, to managing the household and my own business. And then there’s temper tantrums, being woken up numerous times a night, unexpected trips to the garage to get the car fixed, and my husband having to stay late at the office when we have a family dinner planned.
As I traverse the path of motherhood, I am constantly reminded of the ways in which yoga has saved my sanity. There have been days when yogic breathing has pulled me back from the brink, and nights when I have relied upon the power of relaxation to get me through the bedtime shenanigans. For every posture I’ve practiced I could tell a thousand stories. Instead of boring you with tales of which poses helped me through which milestones, I’ve compiled a list of five yoga poses every mother of young children should have in her arsenal, and why.
Nothing prepares you for those extreme moments of motherhood. Like being told that your three-year-old and your eight-month old both have H1N1, or that your son is in respiratory distress, or that your daughter has a tick bite from a tick carrying Lyme disease (yes, all true). You can also never predict what kind of accidents your kids will have. And you have no idea until you’re faced with these crazy situations exactly how you will react.
We all know our thoughts are powerful. Each of us has a variety of different messages we tell ourselves on a daily basis. But for many of us, these messages are full of self-criticism and negativity. What if we trained our minds to be on constant default to a positive thought? If we looked a criticism in the eye, acknowledged it, and then followed up with a positive mantra?
Change. It is in the air. Fall is handing over the reins to winter. The weather is shifting, the last of the leaves are falling, the dark comes early, and we’re seeing glimpses of holiday lights and Christmas decorations. Some people bemoan the change from our crisp autumn days to the snowy flurries of winter. Some people embrace the onslaught of winter and all the outdoor adventures it offers. I love the way the city slowly changes at this time of year. There’s a certain quiet in the air, yet you can feel the anticipation of the holiday rush.
In the first few years of motherhood we need – more than ever – to surround ourselves with the people who lift us up, who give without expectation, who love unconditionally, and who celebrate us. Along with the many physical and emotional changes that occur when we bring a new life (or lives) into this world, we may also reflect on life and ask ourselves some of the "big questions". Some of us feel our identity shift completely, some of us question our parenting ability, and some of us make life choices we never thought we’d make.
When we have kids, we mark the passing of time by referring to certain milestones or “firsts”: The first time the kids sit upright on their own, their first foods, their first attempts at crawling, their first steps. As parents we watch these moments with a mixture of excitement and sadness - the joy of discovering a new stage in our child’s development, and the quiet lament for the stage left behind. Time moves forward. And keeps moving.
I’m in the midst of giving myself a performance review. A mom review. With Mother’s Day having come and gone, I’ve been thinking a lot about my mom, my mother-in-law, my friends who are moms, and the role they play in my life as a mother. There are qualities I admire in each of them and many qualities that I aspire to bring to my own family. And I am reminded of how important it is to regularly take a look at my own parenting style.
Despite having practiced yoga for many years, I’m constantly surprised at the revelations I have on the mat – both the smaller "a-ha!" moments to the greater "scream-it-from–the-rooftop!" realizations.
Well, I had a revelation today.
I’m not sure where on the spectrum today’s revelation falls. The realization felt like a rediscovery of something I have always known - like a moment of déjà vu or the experience of an unfolding dream in which you seem to know what will happen a split second before it does.
