Practicing what I teach

In every yoga class I teach I encourage my students to listen to their bodies, pushing themselves to their edge but not beyond it. I share this same lesson with my children, helping them to notice and understand the messages their bodies give them. And then...

...and then I busily run around working on a bazillion different projects not paying attention to my own body's messages such as nearly falling asleep while writing at the computer, puffy tired eyes when I wake up, and a need for too much Awake tea everyday to name a few examples, until my body has enough and decides to let me know in a bit louder voice that enough is enough and I need to rest, really rest.

So on Monday morning when my sweet husband awakened me I was quickly greeted by a headache. Now I get headaches fairly often and didn't think too much of it. I usually press on, drink  water, maybe a bit of caffiene, do some yoga and energy work and it usually settles out.

Not this time. Moments after getting out of bed I realized that bed was the only place I was going to be that day. Not just a little annoyance of a headache this time, but a nausea inducing, eye piercing, room spinning, sound and movement sensitive migraine. My body was no longer saying slow down and take a rest, it said STOP! in no uncertain terms. So, finally, I listened (what choice did I have at this point) and I stopped.

I stopped for the entire day, barely dragging myself out of bed at midday to try to eat something and continued to rest or sleep until late afternoon. I was still not quite myself until the next morning, but in all that stopping and resting I remember that lesson I say everyday and remembered I have to practice what I teach. Listening to, respecting, and honoring my body's messages. Trusting that when I do, I am healthier, happier, and more grounded than when I run around like a chicken with my head cut off ignoring that fact entirely.

Again I am reminded this is a practice. Yoga and life. We don't always get it right and sometimes we need a siren instead of a whisper to notice. But we can laugh, be gentle with ourselves, and practice some more.

Namaste

Lessons from the Universe

I am known for telling other people that their illnesses are their bodies way of telling them to slow down, listen, or take a look inside. Being like most people, however, it is always easier to see these things from the outside than from the inside.

Last week I started getting sick. I kept going a bit, but did take a couple of days off of work. I thought I was getting better, so charged ahead again only to find myself worse off than I was before within a very short time. Still not quite getting it, I tried to keep up with my regular routine until the chills and fever sent me to bed...for hours.

Even though I know I should just stop, I continue to think I can do a little bit more than I am. Case in point, I'm sitting here at the computer writing when my body is telling me to take a nap before the boys get home from school.

Some lessons take longer than others to learn. The universe usually gives us lots of opportunities to practice the ones with which we are struggling. So, rather than continue on, I think I'll listen to the universe, my body, and my own advice and go take a nap. :)

What lessons does the universe keep sending your way?

Laughing too much?

Occasionally my boys tell me that I laugh too much and wonder if I'll ever stop laughing. (Although, they also say other people don't laugh enough and they certainly don't like it when I don't laugh and get cranky!) When it's just us, apparently all this laughing is not a big deal. However, when the friends are around...sometimes we get a little self-conscious.

This morning as we chatted in the hall with one of the friends, my little one leaned in and whispered, "Don't embarrass me, Mom." I whispered back, "How would I do that?" He replied, "By laughing too much." I reigned it in a bit and wondered to myself, "Doesn't he remember I'm Laughing Yoga Mama?" LOL

But seriously, it was a good reminder for me that sometimes I can be overwhelming with my big laugh and personality. School is his place, so I'm a bit more of a background than center stage. He's Mr. Charisma in the classroom and I don't want to upstage him. When he's missing me or needs a boost, though, he is more than willing to put on a big show with me. Like at the end of the day when barrels toward me at full tilt or jumping up to hug me when I visit the classroom to help out.

I am most appreciative (and hope I can take just a teensy bit of credit for it) that my sweet little boy leaned in with a respectful whisper to handle his worry, instead of any number of other less kind ways he could have handled his feelings. I'm so glad he appreciates his laughing yoga mama, but can ask for quiet yoga mama when he needs her.

Allowing vs. struggling

I've been reading a book that was sitting on my bed stand collecting dust for longer than I care to admit (so I won't) called Stretching Lessons by Sue Bender. It leaped out at me from the shelf at Barnes and Nobles some time ago so I bought it. Apparently, I've been a bit resistive to reading it as I've even packed it on a few trips, but never managed to crack it open...until this week of course. I guess we really can only hear (or in this case read) the things we need to when we are really ready.

The content that has struck a chord with me is Sue's realization that she continually struggles for all of her successes, even when she doesn't need to. She discusses taking a "stretching class" and is opened to the possibility of allowing things to happen rather than struggling with them.

As I struggle with the demands and challenges of motherhood, I am realizing that I really do too often struggle. This seems especially true as the boys get older. I'm pushing and pulling and trying to get to some destination that apparently is not such a big priority for everyone else. This concept of allowing instead of struggling seems like a good next step to practice. I'm pretty good at the struggling, so a new skill seems like a good idea.

As I listened to one of my favorite authors, Pema Chodron, today this concept came up again. She described how everything becomes so small and narrow when we have pain and struggle against it rather than facing it. This is so amazingly true! My view is unbelieveably narrow when the sock on the floor, the dishes on the counter, or the time on the clock are the only things I can see. My vision without my glasses really is nearsighted, but I can apparently still be nearsighted even with my glasses on!

So, how do I go about practicing allowing? I guess the first step is to notice when I'm struggling. From there I can begin to step back, broaden my perspective, open my heart, and practice allowing. I'm thinking laughing is going to be a big part of this process. Laughing at myself and the crazy things I get worked up about will be a great first step. Onward, I go...(giggle, giggle)

Parenting with a whisper

It's amazing to me how sweet and cooperative my sons have been while I have had laryngitis. What voice I have sounds like a whisper and I'm using clapping, tapping, gestures, and sign language to communicate. They are being helpful and responsible, following directions, taking the initiative to get things done, and trying to take care of me.

Last year when I lost my voice they both told me they thought I was going to die. I assured them I wouldn't die from laryngitis, but I'm wondering if that was buzzing around in their heads as they became oh so helpful the last few days. "If we are nice enough to mama, maybe she'll get her voice back and she won't die."

I was with some dear friends last night when one of them posed the question, "Why do my kids stop when I say 'that's enough,' but not when I ask them to stop the two times before then." As I noticed this recent increase in compliance with my own children, I wondered the same. What is it that is different when we are sick or exasperated that gets them to stop? And how can we bottle that so it happens all the time? Are we doing something different or are they?

Perhaps our children are better at reading us than we think they are. Perhaps we don't deliver the first message with the same intent, therefore they perceive a bit of wiggle room. Maybe we aren't fully engage or attentive with the first request or directive. Maybe they tune in more when we are sending out different signals. Maybe I should do some research!

I'm going to attempt to observe myself over the next few days with my limited voice and as it fully recovers to see what I'm doing differently that they are interpreting in my tone or body language. My mini research project for the weekend.

Stayed tuned for the results...

Mama's voice

So I have my annual back to school cold that is starting to drop down into my vocal chords and turn into laryngitis. This is the fourth year in a row this has happened and I am beginning to wonder what it is the universe is trying to tell me with this ailment. I have clearly not gotten it so far!

Is it about finding my voice, using my voice, not using my voice, listening to my inner voice, listening and not talking...the possibilities seem endless.

Goodness know my boys hear my voice enough, maybe too much! That's a vote for the listening more, talking less.

I've been searching for way to find and share my voice through writing, like this blog. Maybe that's it, more writing. I do enjoy sharing all the nutty adventures of my boys and the amazing insight with which they provide me and I hope you readers enjoy it, too.

I use my voice to teach yoga - lots of talking, but just started teaching a meditation class this week - no talking. Maybe that balance of talking/no talking is it.

The vocal chords are at the fifth chakra.  "5th Chakra: Throat: Tied to creativity and communication.
Feels pressure when you are not communicating your emotions properly." (from http://www.crystalinks.com/chakras.html) That seems pretty interesting.

Lots to ponder as I begin my time of a quiet voice. At least my fingers can't get laryngitis and I can still write!

If you have any thoughts, please share. :)

I don't want to grow up!

Seven is a tricky age. Your still considered a "little kid", but you can do many things the "big kids" can do. It's fun to get adult attention and snuggle up like you did when you were littler, but you don't want mom or dad doing it all for you all the time!

What is a parent to do?

Staying tuned in to the needs of the moment is a huge key to navigating the tricky nature of seven year olds. Offering choices, independent options, scaffolding tasks to support the skills they have and teach the skills they need, being flexible, listening, watching, and keeping our own egos out of the mix leads to much greater success.

But what parent can do all that all the time when juggling siblings, laundry, dinner, dirty bathrooms, work, and everything else on your plate? None of us really. That's why I try to think of parenting as a practice. I will never achieve perfection, although I hope to experience (and notice) many perfect moments. I strive each day to be the best parent I can be and to support my children in being the best they can be. No day is every the same and there are always many mistakes along the way. Staying present and being gentle with myself (not always achieved) and gentle with my children (also not always achieved) are my goals each day.

What was your perfect parenting moment today? Recognize it, honor it, and carry it with you as you continue on your journey.