Here it is again. It's Saturday morning, I'm gloriously still in my pajamas, and Mike has taken Jake on an expedition. We should both be thrilled: he gets the Jake Time of which he manages only snippets during the work week and I get a morning free to practice yoga.
The problem is, I spend most of the time they're gone wandering the house in a panic.
Why should I have so much trouble being without my baby on a Saturday morning when I'm pleased to leave him at school during the week? Maybe it has something to do with the beauty of family time, when I get to enjoy both my son and my partner simultaneously, when I have an adult to talk to while I cheer Jake's ability to throw a tennis ball with impressive accuracy. Maybe it's a nagging feeling that it's okay to be without my son during the work week, when Mommies everywhere do the same; but come the weekend, all good Mommies spend every spare moment with their child, to make up for abandoning him during the week, right?
The real problem, I suspect, lies with my deep-seated sense that I don't get to have time for myself. If I'm not taking care of work or taking care of the house I should, something primal tells me, be taking care of my baby.
Spending Time with Yourself -- and Figuring Out Who "Yourself" Is
Spending time alone -- time meant to be all for me -- requires my knowing what I've been missing in all the time taking care of other people. Knowing what I've been missing requires knowing what I need. Knowing what I need requires knowing . . . myself.
Sounds simple enough, doesn't it?
Not if you're a new mother.
It takes time to figure out who you are after months of full-time infant-care. Never mind that you're necessarily a different person with a new child in your life. It's not as simple as grabbing that old "ME" hat off the shelf where you've carefully stored it for the past year or so, putting it on, and stepping out into the world. "Hey, I'm back. Have you missed me?"
For one thing, I can't imagine I'd know where I put that hat if I had one. We moved across the country when Jake was 8 months old, and I'm quite certain the "ME" hat would have been lost in the move or ended up in the bottom of one of the boxes we "stored" in the basement and will one day throw out because it has grown a scary green mold. Trying to find it now, when I need it, would only divert me into frustration looking for something that probably doesn't fit anymore anyhow.
Which leads me to the second problem with the idea of simply putting on the "ME" hat now that I'm ready to resume being ME again (just ME with a beautiful little boy). It probably doesn't fit. It could be way too small, like those jeans I last wore right before my wedding, the one time in our lives when extra weight just refuses to stay on our bodies, magically making way for the wedding dress we'll wear only once so it had better fit perfectly. (Mine didn't fit as I had hoped because I was too trusting to stand up to the seamstress at the bridal shop who seemed to think that every bride wants an hour-glass figure so extreme she almost wishes she had opted for petticoats or hoops to hide her bulging hips.) Or the hat might fit just fine but look all wrong, like my favorite beaded black DKNY cardigan that was so awesome on me in 1994 but that I regretfully tossed in the Goodwill pile in 1999 when I moved to St. Louis and had to acknowledge that the '90's were beginning to look as unflattering as the '80's.
So how am I supposed to find this woman who is "ME" without a magical hat to bring together the woman I was before I had Jake and the woman I am now?
I'm not. Because the woman I was before Jake no longer exists. And rather than get all teary and sentimental about it -- she was, after all, in better shape, cooler, younger, hipper -- I can focus on the beauty and importance of the woman I am now.
Being Present in the Moment
When we practice yoga, we practice being in the moment. Think about the future as you hold a yoga pose and the only future you will care about is the one where you no longer have to hold this pose. Think about the past, and you will fool yourself into thinking life was much, much better when you didn't have to be in this pose. But stay in the moment, and you will find the beauty of you in this pose, the subtle openings, the length of your spine, the openness of your heart.
Being present in the moment is also how you quiet your mind so you can listen to your heart. Most of us spend way too much time listening to our minds plan what we have to do later in our day or week and way too little time paying attention to what it is we're doing right now. Just think, what you're doing right now is likely something you were looking forward to as a way of distracting you from what you were doing at some earlier moment. Now that you're actually doing it, though, you waste it on thinking about the next thing you'd like to do that you won't appreciate when you get there because your mind will have raced on to the some other future.
Or you might instead find your mind stuck in the past, so focused on the beauty of something that has already happened that you risk missing the beauty of what's happening right now.
Only by being present in the moment can we live our lives fully, shake off the doubts our minds throw at us, and open our hearts fully to the world and all the good things in it.
And one of those good things is you, at this moment, the woman you are right now. She's even more beautiful than the woman you were before giving birth and even more beautiful than the woman you will be once your child is so independent you can spend a whole day reading a good book on the beach, what you used to think vacation time meant.
Who you are in the present moment is beautiful because, being present in the moment, you can fully appreciate her beauty.
Sirsasana (Headstand): A Yoga Pose for Being in the Present Moment
Ideally, any pranayama, any asana will help you be present in the moment.
Personally, I like to practice the astanga primary series on these anxiety-laced Saturday mornings. There's a rhythm to the practice, a level of difficulty that requires full concentration, and a set sequence I don't have to think about, so my mind can quiet.
But, come on, only crazy people do the astanga primary series on a quiet Saturday morning.
For those less crazy, I recommend sirsasana, or headstand. Whether you practice it against a wall or -- for those who've found their balance and courage -- without a wall, it demands full attention. It offers the added benefit of any inversion -- changing your energy, shaking you up, leaving you refreshed and excited for the rest of your Saturday. (And, since any inversion offers this benefit, if sirsasana is not your thing, you can practice sarvangasana (shoulder stand) or viparita karani (legs up the wall), although I'm not going to describe them here because I do, after all, have my astanga primary series to get to.)
Or, for those more sane than I will ever be, go do something quiet for yourself -- read a book, go for a walk, ride your bike, go for a run. Just make sure it is an activity where you can focus on what you're doing instead of what else you're going to do today.
Sirsasana (Headstand)
1) Kneel on your mat on hands and knees. Make sure your hips are directly above your knees. Lower to your elbows and clasp your hands loosely, fingers interlaced.
2) Take a moment to make sure your elbow creases form a straight line, as do your wrist creases. Press the outer edge of your wrists into the floor and note how your shoulders move away from your ears.
3) Maintaining this position, let your shoulders roll toward your ears, to your back, and down your back away from your ears. Feel your sternum lift. See if you can locate your palate and feel a subtle lift there as well.
4) Place your head on the floor between your hands. Once again, do the shoulder loop, sternum lift, and palate lift described above. I have found this practice helps me find the proper placement for my head.
5) Finally, imagine your forearms and the invisible line between your elbows create a three-sided prism of energy extending up to the ceiling. It is this prism of energy you create that will help keep you supported.
6) With your head on the floor, think through the shoulder loop, sternum lift, and palate lift one more time before lifting your hips so your knees move off the floor and you are on your toes. Walk your feet in and bend your knees. Using the wall if it is there, lift one foot from the ground with the knee bent all the way toward your chest. Feel your weight shift into the prism of energy.
7) Generate a stronger prism of energy by pressing your wrists and forearms into the floor, drawing your shoulder blades strongly down your back, and engaging the fire in your abdominals. As you are ready, draw your other knee into your chest as you lift that foot off the floor.
8) Slowly extend your legs upwards, finding yourself in full sirsasana. Remain here for 10-60 slow, deep breaths.
9) When you come down, try to do so with control. Rest in balasana (child's pose).
Remember how to be present in the moment for the rest of your day and return to that lovely place as often as you'd like.
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