Benjamin asked me the other day why I go to yoga so much.
Wow, talk about a simple, reasonable enough question that does not, unfortunately, have a simple answer.
But I still managed to keep it brief (shocking). I think my answer was something along the lines of "Well, because it is really good exercise for my body, but also makes me feel really good on the inside...so it's kind of like exercise for my body and my brain."
He seemed satisfied enough, and since then has even made a few off-hand comments that have made me smile. Or just laugh. When I came home from my prenatal yoga a few nights ago, he asked me if I felt "all better inside"...this made me grin the biggest grin and respond with "absolutely, I do". And then just yesterday, when I was grunting while trying to tie my shoes (3rd trimester thing), he suggested I go to my yoga class and tell my brain "not to worry so much". I loved it.
And while his basic understanding of why I practice is--at this point in his life--very simple, it's important to me.
However, I didn't realize at first that it would be. Not when I first began, anyway. But like with anything kids learn to understand about their world, about life, there's a slow unfolding that I believe is so deeply rooted in what they see us do...and so yeah, I'm glad he's at least interested in knowing the why.
And yet, were neither of my boys to ever ask me why I practice, I'm not sure I would necessarily sit them down and explain it to them. I can't imagine that scenario...not even 5 or 10 years from now. Sure, I'll offer up classes to them like I will every other type of activity, but the meaning behind my own committment is not something I imagine being able to articulate. Nor do I think anyone really can...which, is one of the many aspects of yoga I appreciate. It's not about ribbons, awards, status, etc...or least of all, end results. It's about the process, the becoming, the ever-changing transformation of mind and body.
I learned pretty early on in my practice of yoga that it was going to be a good fit, and the more I stuck with it, the more convinced I became that it wasn't ever going to end. I wouldn't stop after I made it through a particularly tough workshop--or even after I got the "yoga butt" I'd heard so much about. I felt certain I'd be at it for the rest of my life for two very distinct reasons: for one, the teachings and lessons involved seemed to not only support and reinforce my own views on life, relationships, parenthood, etc...but they were helping them grow and get better. The second reason is about community. The people I practice with, the energy in the room, the overwhelming (and refreshing) lack of status and comparison that exists--yet the way that acceptance and support actually makes you work harder and with more integrity than any other kind of measureable result...all of it, it had me hooked from the start.
I'm only a few years in...a baby, really, at this yoga thing. But as sure as I am of how insignicant that fact is--that years and "levels" really don't matter, I'm also aware of how much more there will always be to learn.
One of my teachers likes to quote his Tai Chi master all the time in his efforts to remind us of how critical our ability to be humble is to the practice..."there is no end result, only the process and effort you give in getting there...and when you think you've done and learned it all, let me know, because there will be more." (I may have butchered that, but the gist is there:) )
I guess what I'm getting at is that, while I've only been at this a short time, I get how important it is--and how central it's always going to be in my life.
And so...while I know that I can't ever force Benjamin, Jonathan or even Brian (you wanna talk long shots) to sign up for classes, I still hope that by staying committed to it I'll continue to just get better at my own life in way that impacts them positively. Meaning, the happier I am with myself, the more freedom they'll feel in becoming who they want and are meant to be...or, in the short term, the less anger I'll feel at my shoelaces, thus creating a greater sense of calm for Benjamin while we get ready to walk out the door.
It's all about the small moves in life, right?
If I were to give Benjamin a list of reasons, at this very moment, as to why I practice yoga so much--and in his defense, I've upped my time away from home to practice each week since I got pregnant, so the kid has a right to ask questions--I'd start with a few basic points:
1. alone time--even in a class full of people
2. my back and butt have gotten stronger...minor detail, but still--I'm not mad about it
3. the neighborhood/community is truly a sanctuary for me, especially as it gets me out of my comfort zone each week (though oddly enough, it's become one of my safest and most comfortable environs)
4. I have fabulous--fabulous--teachers
5. no one's looking at me or judging my ability
6. I'm not looking at anyone else or judging their ability
7. everyone gets stronger and goes deeper anyway (and I would argue in ways only made possible by this implied sense of individual integrity and ownership--no one can push me harder than myself)
8. learning that it's not about "getting into and holding a pose", but rather understanding my body and how to properly align it...and then "pulsing" in and out of my own fullest expression of that pose
9. knowing that it's ok to have on "off week"
10. I now have better posture--and yes, oh yes...less back pain
I'd give Benjamin these reasons and maybe even launch into some sort of conversation with him about how important each of these points is to living a balanced life and above all else--being a good person (well, minus Mommy's yoga butt). And then I'd tell him that if there was one thing I hope for him to always know and understand, in everything he ever does, tries or sets out to do...it'd be not to compare himself to others. To never let how someone else does in a race, on a test, or even what they earn---to never, ever let it determine his own sense of worth. When he wins, he wins...but not because someone else is slow or not as good at it as he is. And when he loses, he loses...but not because somebody else was given an unfair advantage. Good or bad, it all rests squarely on him. What he does with that will define his character.
But he'll never see that list. Nor will we ever have that talk.
But we'll talk a lot (he'll make sure of it)...and hopefully along the way he'll come to understand it all on his own.
Just a few hours ago we shared our Wendy's lunch (hey--I'm pregnant) at the kitchen island and he commented on the fact that I had a bigger drink than he did. I responded with something like "Yes, but someday when you're bigger and a grownup like me, you'll get a bigger cup, too."
To which he replied: "Yeah, but it's ok my cup is smaller, because it's enough for me right now...right?"
Right.
Add one more lesson to that list: your kids will be your greatest teachers of all.
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