Field of Dreams?

Lately the hubs and I have been just terrible about staying up late at night. For him it is grading papers from school and the start of baseball season. For me it is the reading, reading, reading quest of my ever-present book list and, on some nights, the mountains of dishes and/or laundry that I've put off for days and finally have to deal with because, you know, people who don't live here are coming to my house the next day and that's about the only thing some weeks that gets me to attack said mountains.

In case you were wondering, the children still get up way too early every day. School also means B & HD have to be out the door bright and early, so why we think staying up late, for any reason, is a good idea is really lost on me. Especially today when I have a jam-packed schedule of teaching but we thought it would be wise to stay up past midnight last night at which point my brain was really on GO! Mode and I should have just kept reading my book because it had to have been close to 2 a.m. before I was finally asleep. Am I rambling? Am I awake? Can't be sure at this point in the day.

All of this is to say, I might be a little out of sorts right now. Ben, too. But we both agreed this morning that we'd have to dig deep today and not let our tiredness turn into pure crankiness, and certainly not directed at the children who would probably prefer us to be more well rested, too (although, if that were really the case, they could also try this fun thing called sleeping in on the weekends. I hear it is great.). Tired and potentially cranky-making factors all considered, we are still at so far, so good for the day. Granted, we've both been caffeinated and were probably counting down the hours until bedtime all day long, but even with self-inflicted sleep deprivation, the Welschies pulled out a pretty good day, in part because we've all been outside, enjoying the fresh, warm air that Spring seems to have (finally) brought for keeps.  Geez - the Faulknerian sentences again. It's like I'm back in Senior Sem at Doane again!

Of course, because this is Nebraska, it was windy again today which kept us close to home this morning, but this afternoon I decided to declare my own little Walk to Work Day which I decided would also be the jumpstart of regular walking that I hope to do from now until the end of my pregnancy. Yoga is awesome, as always, for my body and soul, but since I can't quite do everything I'd like to on the mat right now, I need another way to work and release tension from my physical and emotional states. After today's kick-off, I would say Mission Accomplished, on both accounts.

Since our house is a little over a mile-ish from the studio, I thought walking myself down prior to teaching my second class of the day (prenatal) would be a great idea; the bonus of there being Family Yoga today (i.e. B & the kids would be joining me later and I could catch a ride home) helped. Even with walking into a direct, sometimes rather strong wind, the whole way was enjoyable. It felt good to get moving like that and just be with the thoughts in my head. No music. No phone. No talking. (no books!) I need more of that.

After set up and prep for class, I settled in at the front desk only to realize ten minutes later that no one was coming to join me. This has happened once before since the start of my prenatal class and it just goes to show that even in a town the size of Hastings, getting the word out about a new opportunity can be tricky, especially when said opportunity is directed at such a niche, target audience. I waited a bit longer just to see if any mamas-to-be would breeze in late, but when it was clear I really was on my own for the day, I packed up my things and decided to walk home. If I'd had a book to read, I probably would have stayed there and waited for my next class to start but since The Bump and I enjoyed the walk down, I figured we'd enjoy the walk home, too.

About half-way back, I was trucking along thinking about all the things I could say after surprising my husband by turning up back at home already, some of which included a line of "What am I doing wrong? Why aren't people coming to class?" questions when I quickly realized I needed to stop. Not walking, but that kind of thinking, for sure.

Attendance at a class, whether it is full or a goose egg, is not all about me. There are so many reasons why individuals choose to go to a yoga class (or any fitness class) and while instructor preferences/styles may play a role for some, I know in the end I can only control myself and my actions; I am not powerful enough to control others. And that's a good thing. I don't want to carry that much weight on my shoulders or feel that sort of pressure. I do want to bring my best and strongest offering to each class I teach (yes, even on days after nights that were too late and too short), because that's what I can do - that's what I can control. I can also take ownership of my attitude and response to both full and goose egg days, knowing that so long as I keep showing up, so will others, and again, it is about them, not me.

It was a totally a If-You-Build-It-They-Will-Come-sort-of-pep-talk-to-myself moment.

Before I had gone another block, a helicopter suddenly came into view. It was headed for the helipad at Mary Lanning which I happened to be walking by at that exact time. Along with the intensity of sound that accompanied the chopper, came a huge wave of pregnant-lady-emotions that startled me more than anything. I'm always one to say a quick prayer in my head when I hear sirens (I figure that those at both ends, receiving and giving, need all the good thoughts and well wishes they can get and have been doing this for most of my adult life), and having lived near enough to ML for long enough, I now do the same whenever I hear helicopters, too. Today had to be a first, though, of having one come in to land directly over top of me. Among the rush of thoughts that went through my mind were: "Holy crap. That is scary-loud noise."; "What if that thing is flying in for somebody I know?!"; "I need to call everyone I love and tell them what they mean to me!" (which, for the record, I did not do).

OK. Laugh if you like, because those are some pretty dramatic reactions (may I refer you back to the aforementioned pregnant-lady emotions and lack of sleep???), but my eyes welled up with tears and my throat got super tight as watching the helicopter go over head instantly put everything about the day into perspective. I am blessed that my family has never needed such medical attention. I am blessed to live in a place where I can walk to work without constant fear of fights or gunfire. I am blessed to do work that fills my soul and continues to teach me about life, even when the days do not go as planned. I am blessed.

Thankfully I also had a handful more blocks to go so I could let my weepies and sniffles come and go before I had to take off my sunglasses and talk to other people. The walk gave me just the right amount of perspective, not to mention exercise, and big dose of gratitude. Not bad for a day of running on just four-ish hours of sleep.

Post Script: Day Two of Walking Mama

Day Two after a crappy night of sleep is usually my worst. I'm at my most sluggish, most cranky. Today should have been that day. It doubly should have been that day (wait, triple, because Hi, Monday) as Ben has been gone all evening/for part of the night yet for parent/teacher conferences. PTC nights always mean long days for me because not only am I running herd on the herd all day by myself, but I then have to do supper and bedtime for all three solo, too [to be a single parent? I cannot imagine.]. Because bedtime is so not my thing, these nights sometimes feel extra tedious, especially if I am on a Day Two of Tired.

In today's case, I am grateful for PTC and the rest of the busy week that lies ahead. Because of our hectic schedule this week, I looked in advance for a babysitter who could come today and relieve me for a bit so I could in fact charge through a long day/evening and still have something left for the rest of the week, too. That this foresight happened to help on a Day Two? Well, as Ben says, sometimes it is better to be lucky than good.

Luck also came my way with today's picture perfect spring day weather. Warm sun, gentle breeze, gorgeous smelling trees (although most are a bit overpowering for my pregnant super sense of smell) - the day was begging for a walk. And so, once the sitter arrived and was ready to take on the kids for a bit, I left to go for a walk around the park. Again, no music, no distractions. Just walking and enjoying and even running into a friend on the way home from picking up her own Little from school which was such a lovely bonus - it was all fabulous.

As for the rest of the evening? Well, we spent some time in the yard, ate supper, played a bit more outside (perhaps not the best idea for Lincoln who was super mad at me for then making him come in to get ready for bed), and then did the whole good night thing with very little drama. No one yelled, screamed, or cried. Not even me. ;) Once again, walking saves the day.

Backslide

Within six hours of my last post, at the start of last week, my Lenten Promise  was clearly shot. It's hard to commit to a daily yoga practice, even just for 10-15 minutes a day, when you can't breathe or stop blowing your nose for days, and have a fever for over 48 hours straight. Just getting through Tuesday through Thursday of last week was a challenge and that was without even leaving my house once in that time span. So no, no yoga for me last week (I even missed multiple days of teaching which has been very rare since I began last fall), because once I got my feet back on the ground, it was all I could do to keep up with getting my house back in functioning shape and food on the table and all that other maternal/spousal/adult stuff I am expected to do in this world.

Now it is Wednesday, two weeks beyond Ash Wednesday, and I haven't done any of my own practice in eight or nine days (Math. Blergh.) - not exactly a shinning start to 40 Days of Yoga. I can feel it, too, because whereas at the time of my last post I was feeling pretty good (was totally doing my best to ignore warning signs of impending doom in my sinuses), I am back to noticing the not-so-good in both my body and my mood. Back and hips? Stiff and creaky. Mind and attitude? Wee-bit sour and cranky.

At least I have an immediate answer and fix to this. I just have to step up and really recommit because this is a big week (big month, actually) of taking on some extra classes to teach and when you top that with the hubbub of activity we have going on this March, it's going to be April and Easter before we know it, and I do not want to get lost in the whirlwind. I know myself well enough to know that this much is true:

I cannot let my teaching schedule (or social calendar, etc.) get in the way here. Somehow I've also got to find a way to get past The Naps which is what I'm calling my No.1 pregnancy indicator (symptom seems like a poor word choice, but you get my drift) (and truth, it's probably No.2 because, let's face it, CrankyPants is my No.1) these days. I am so freaking tired all day long that I have been falling asleep on the couch even when the kids are playing - loudly - right in front of me. These bizarre cat naps do not actually result in great rest and often I wake up from them feeling super groggy and downright confused at times, but it's like I can't help it.

A baby in the belly means I don't sleep well at night and apparently my body has decided that it's going to make up for that deficit during the day, whether I intend to or not. And somedays this happens two or three times! Good practice for when Baby arrives? Maybe, except for that whole supposed-to-be-parenting-the-other-children gig I've got going on....

Unless I relinquish full control to PBS (and there's no way that works for a peanut LT's age), this current approach just isn't going to work. Here's hoping instead that the whole Second Trimester Energy Boost (it should totally be a proper noun) comes SOON!

Promises, Promises

On Ash Wednesday, a friend happened to ask in a group message if I (and the others in the convo, obviously) had any Lenten promises to share. I'll be honest, I was stumped. I mean, I knew Lent was beginning and all that but giving up something for Lent has never been a big part of my religious or spiritual life. Sure, I've given up stuff in the past in high school and college, but mainly because my friends were too, not because I was really committing it to anything higher. So when several of us responded that we in fact did not have any good ideas of what to give up this year, the friend who posed the original question then said the best thing - the exact right thing I needed to hear, actually - to explain her approach to Lent.

My wise friend explained that it doesn't have to be giving up something but rather a Lenten promise can be about changing something to help motivate that same change in behavior or attitude later, post-Lent. Of course this makes total sense and perhaps you already understand Lent in this way, but something about her description just clicked for me.

In fact, let's just say the whole exchange was a little Light Bulb moment for me.

Let me also be clear that lately I have been struggling. Struggling a lot, actually, with things like anger and parental patience and just my attitudes in general. Remember the recent "Regression" blog post? These are all things that I have made leaps and bounds with in terms of progress since I began therapy and yoga the fall after Linky was born. Not that I suddenly became this perfectly happy and eternally blissed out person, but major progress to a calmer, more realistic, and overall happier me? Yes. Yes. And YES.

And then I got pregnant. Laugh or scoff if you want, and while it is not entirely fair to attribute blame Baby No.4 for my backsliding as of late, said babe is going to bear some of the weight here. For one thing, pregnancy makes me not sleep. From the first trimester on, my sleep is a wreck and as a person who has dealt with some serious sleep deprivation over the years (and who just started to make progress during the second half of the previous year), being back in the land of little sleep is scary. I know what little-to-no sleep does to me and my general outlook on life, because my short fuse and quick mouth start to take over and it is no fun for anyone in my house. Fortunately, this time, I can look at my poor sleep as temporary. Yes, I am likely going to be tired from now until Baby arrives and then hella tired for some time after that, but eventually I'll get back on track. TiredCrankyMommy will not exist forever, or at least not for such an extended period of time.

Another thing Baby No.4 has contributed to, sort of/kind of, is my other coping skill beyond sleep which is, of course, my yoga practice. Now Baby's role here is really just in regards to my energy level. I haven't been to a regular class at the studio since early January because I just don't have the stamina to keep up with a mainstream 60-minute class right now. I also quit going because before people knew I was pregnant, I did not want to draw attention to the fact that I was making certain modifications that would look really strange for a capable teacher to be making. Not that I owe others an explanation, but it all felt weird, so I backed off the public class scene.

All of this leads me to the point where I take the rest of responsibility for losing touch with my yoga practice because I dropped the ball. Totally. Instead of hopping online to use a subscription site like yogaglo to support my home practice or putting on the prenatal yoga DVD I have or just applying the ding-dang knowledge I have as a certified prenatal yoga instructor (sheesh), I quit doing any practice outside of my teaching. For almost two months now I have chosen to go without the one activity that I know works. Not the best choice.

So yes, a light bulb pretty much exploded in my brain when my friend shared the idea of approaching Lent as a change in behavior/attitude. I needed both, and of course my answer to both was get.on.the.mat! Ever seen the hashtag #yogaeverydamnday ??  I sure have and it also popped in my head at the same time the light bulb blew up. 40 days of yoga. That became my Lenten promise. And nothing grand or super physical, either. I said if I could just do 10 minutes a day, I'd probably feel a lot better. And (yay, me!) I was right.

Since making my promise, I have done 10-15 minutes each day but not counting anything that includes when I'm teaching. That's teaching, not practicing. And the whole thing has been great. I feel like I have more space in my own body (always a bonus during pregnancy since the little peanut seems to instantly take up a lot of room) and I am dealing more appropriately with kid meltdowns and general shenanigans which keeps my head space in a much better place than TiredCrankyMommy's.

Now there was Saturday night when I got caught up reading a book and kind of forgot my yoga until I was in bed and instead of getting up opted to do some breathwork until I fell asleep, but I'm still counting it. Actually, breathwork and quieting my mind are probably even more important than a physical practice for me right now because the breath and the mind go hand in hand, so when one races, so too does the other, so yes - it totally counts and it's probably going to happen again. And that's OK! So long as I keep going, doing my little bits here and there every blessed day so I can keep clearing the fog in my brain and releasing the anger and frustration from my system (physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual) I'll be making such a positive step with my little Lenten promise. Because I know, for me, this works, and getting back to something that works for me - that allows me to stay me and stay the best version of me, is as crucial now as it has ever been.

Regression

Holy mother of being a mother. This week, I tell ya, has been a bit of A Week. I'd love to credit blame the moon or the weather or anything other than myself, but the reality is, it is my short temper and edginess that is probably making everything seem worse/more intense.

OK, my kids deserve some credit blame, too. I won't name names but this week I've dealt with children bolting down the driveway/sidewalk (and laughing), screaming and crying because I let un-named child turn off the TV exactly as per said-un-named child's request, AND screaming and crying for 25 minutes because somehow I missed the telepathic request for peanut butter and jelly, not honey, on both sandwiches for lunch yesterday and how could un-named child possibly ever stop crying because it was my fault that said-un-named child was crying in the first place but said-un-named child also, apparently, needed me to keep talking to stop the crying. W.T.H.?! Are you exhausted yet? Patience lost? Yeah, me too.

It doesn't help that Cranky B* is a classic pregnancy "symptom" for me in part because I am run down and tired and not feeling well, and in part because of, you know, the raging hormones and all that. I am not ashamed to say that I don't always handle myself or my family in the best way when I am in the family way - it just is what it is. But this week has felt especially dispiriting because it feels like such a reversion to Angry Mommy of the past. Pre-therapy/pre-yoga/pre-better-coping skills (although I don't know anyone who could have handled the Great Sandwich Meltdown of 2015 - from their own kid anyway - without feeling despair, and, in my defense, I did not yell, WTF is your problem?! or call Bullshit! at any point in the 25 minutes. At least not out loud, so I'll call that a parenting win, especially during this challenging week).

After two extremely hard days in a row, of both kid behavior and my reactions/desperation, it occurred to me that a key part of my coping skills has been lacking totally missing lately - yoga. Yes, I know some of you might think I walk around thinking yoga is the wonder cure of all that ails ya (actually, that's pretty true), but that's because it is something that really does help most, if not all, of what ails me. It makes my physical body feel good, but more importantly it helps sooth my mental, spiritual, and emotional bodies, too. And lately I have not been getting on the mat other than to teach which is clearly a huge problem.

When I started teaching last fall, I immediately learned that preserving and protecting my own practice was going to be challenging but mandatory. After getting pregnant, those ideas did not change, but first trimester stuff has clearly gotten in my way the last two months and that is something I cannot credit blame my kids for - at least not the ones already out and running around my house like perfectly cute (and probably perfectly normal) hooligans. I know how important self-care and me time is and for me, that is best suited in yoga. I need to do the yoga! Not just teach it. So if I'm still not sure I have the energy level to do a full hr-long class at the studio, I need to do my own little practices here at home. Find something online or just make it up on own. It's not like I haven't had the training to handle this! Home practice is an area in which I have always struggled but seeing as how I am struggling so much right now without any yoga, even a less-than-stellar hop on the mat at home would be better than nothing. For all of us!

Listen

This past weekend found me in Omaha for one more (for now) yoga training, this one my final installment of prenatal training. In a beautifully (and symbolically appropriate) way, this closing module brought me such a sense of peace plus knowledge, which is great because the very first one stirred up a lot shtuff for me, and now that I've done the work and put in the time, energy, and tears that always seem to accompany my yoga trainings, I feel prepared and ecstatic to begin teaching my prenatal class this coming Sunday. It is going to be awesome! What turned out to be less than awesome, however, was my journey home from my Ommmazaing weekend in Ommmmaha.

As all of you in and around Nebraska know, this past weekend brought with it something we haven't seen much of this year, known in local circles as "Winter." Because we have had such little snow and within the last week, days of 60* temps, I don't know that any of us were quite ready for this so-called Winter (nor was it properly predicted which made the whole appearance of 6-8 inches of snow plus wind plus freezing-arse cold even worse). At least, I was not. When I left for Omaha on Friday afternoon, I actually had to come back in the house to get my winter coat, "just in case" and oh my, come Sunday when I was digging out my car in my friend's driveway (bless her heart and another friend's for digging out said driveway so I could leave), was I ever glad to have that coat (and hat, gloves, boots, and Smartwools!).

After going slow and taking twice as long as normal to get across town to the studio for our final of final days (and rewarding myself with Starbucks upon doing so), I attended a great birthing workshop lead by two doulas from Omaha (on Baby 4 and still learning amazing things about birth and labor and natural birth!), had a tasty late/working lunch with all my yoginis, and celebrated our group with a heartfelt closing ceremony that cracked my heart wide open, once again, in all the best ways.

At that point, it was time to finally decide what I would be doing with the rest of my day, which included calling and texting both my hubs and couple friends to see what they thought of travel. Since one of my dearest friends was in Lincoln with her family for the day, Ben thought it would work well if I left Omaha, met up with them as they were leaving Lincoln and we caravanned home. I agreed because, man, I wanted to get home so badly, even though I knew there had been some pretty serious accidents along I-80 throughout the day and that it would be slow going. Part of me hesitated though because I did not want to put myself at risk and was hemming and hawing for a fair chunk of time before I finally took the plunge and headed out into the frozen tundra.

Two indicators that I should have stayed overnight? The first was that I left my rings at my friend's house Sunday morning in my flurry to dig out my car, throw everything in it, and head for the studio. I don't know how I did that (or why I even had them since I normally don't wear them to yoga other than the fact that I wanted to feel connected to Ben and my family while I was away), but I knew I wasn't going to drive the opposite direction from home to get them unless I was staying again. The second was that when I was going back and forth on "Should I stay or should I go now??" I thought about calling my dad and then didn't because I knew he would tell me to stay put and apparently that wasn't what I wanted to hear so I didn't ask. Sorry, Dad; you were so right, even though you didn't say a darn word. So yes, the lesson learned is that when the Universe gives you a sign (leaving your wedding ring and great-grandma's mother's ring) at your friend's house and you want to be as stubborn as a toddler and ignore the good advice you know you'll get from you parents, LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES. Sheesh.

As it was, the first hour of my trip went really well, so I thought I had made a great choice. I made sure I had a full tank of gas and was driving cautiously, and I made it from Omaha to Lincoln much faster (but not actually fast, mind you!) than anticipated. I even manifested Katy Perry coming on the radio to inspire my inner-Durga (that's not going to make much sense to those who were not with me over the weekend at training, sorry) and all was well. Except that my phone started beeping "Low Battery" just as I went around Lincoln and I thought about pulling over to chill somewhere for 20 minutes and charge it, but then decided to just keep going because the roads were clear(ish) and there was still daylight. My friend and her hubs were not ready to leave Lincoln yet, so we chatted briefly on the phone, and decided maybe we'd meet up along the way home, maybe not. All was well. Until it was not.

While getting around Lincoln was no trouble, the roads started to get more snow-packed and slick as I got closer to the Crete exit. Traffic slowed down but kept moving and I thought, OK. This is still OK. After passing the Milford exit and shortly thereafter, the Seward exit, traffic slowed all the way to a stop. I bet I wasn't a 1/4 mile past the Seward exchange at that point but there was clearly no going back since, hi, that's not legal, and cars and trucks were packed in tight in both lanes. That was at 6:00 p.m. And although I did not know it at the time, it would not be until two-and-a-half HOURS later that I would make it the SIX miles down the Interstate to the next possible exit, at which point I felt like the biggest fool for even considering the idea of leaving Omaha yesterday, much less actually trying to do so!

During those two-and-a-half hours, I went through the full range of emotions. At first I was like, well, no big deal. I have plenty of gas and I am warm and I'm not in the ditch. All is well. Thankfully, all of those three things remained constant the entire time I was stuck either not moving or inching along the road. But then I started to panic and freak out a bit because my phone had been beeping low battery for so long and I had no way to charge it, so I was worried that it was going to go out on me and then no one could keep me updated on road conditions or know that I was OK and the whole thing was just panic-inducing, isolating, and kind of scary.

By some not-so-small miracle, though, my phone hung in there for the entire experience. And it allowed me to make multiple calls and send multiple texts which also had me experiencing the full range of emotions (bursting out in tears while taking to my dear friend who, after leaving Lincoln well over an hour after I went by, caught up to the Seward exit and was able to get off I-80 to drive on the highway instead whereas I was still stuck less than four miles in front of her) (getting really upset at my husband for telling me I should get off at Goehner - the next exit - and "find a bar" where I could charge my phone and hang out for a bit before heading on) (laughing out loud with my SiL, whose house, at that point, was my goal destination via the exit past Goehner, about the fact that her brother thought I should hang out at a bar when I couldn't even drink) (to relief when I heard from Ben that he'd found multiple places for me to stay if I did in fact get off at Goehner, including the house of a friend of his mom's who lives, literally, a 1/4 mile off the exit ramp there). Full range, people. Full range. All told, it was NUTS (and don't even ask about what my pregnant bladder thought of the whole debacle).

But yes. Six miles in two-and-a-half hours and I finally, blessedly, thankfully, safely made it off that damn road and to a landing spot for the night where I could plug in my little wonder-phone, let people know I was OK, eat some yummy SuperBowl food, and have a room and comfy bed all to myself. And all courtesy of gracious people whom I had never met before but were beyond happy to help. Thank goodness for good people!

Clearly exhausted from last night's proceedings, I slept in until almost 7:30 this morning and after breakfast and starting/loading the car, braved the end of my host's driveway and got back on the interstate at 8:30 this morning. Two hours after that (which is normally just shy of the time it takes me to get from Hastings all the way to Omaha), I made it home. The roads were clearly not great but traffic was at least moving, so I took my time and was in no-rush whatsoever to get anywhere. Except maybe Starbucks in York. I had already decided I was stopping there because that's what I do, but just outside of York, a truck went by me and found just enough melted junk on the road to cover my windshield in yuck, at which point I realized my driver side windshield-wiper-fluid-dispenser-thing-a-ma-bob was plugged with ice. The seven miles into York from there were less than fun, but I made it safe and sound and got my scrapper out after I parked at Starbucks to fix everything. However, the ice was especially stuck in the tiny little holes, so my scraper didn't quite do the trick and my windshield was still a mess, leaving me to wonder how I was actually going to get home if I couldn't see.

Fortunately I have some mad MacGyver skills and managed to use a Starbucks stir-stick to get it cleaned out so I could in fact make it all the way back to Hastings yet today. Have I said THANK GOODNESS yet in this post? Because I've been thinking it nonstop for the last few hours now that I am safe and sound (and bathed and showered) in my own cozy home.

A girl and her stick. Just another reason for
me to heart Starbucks. 

Of course hindsight is 20/20 and no one could have predicted running into that intense of a traffic jam when nothing about it was being reported at the time I left, and while my sanity and pride wish I had listened to those little voices that said STAY, ultimately it all worked out and in the safest, most pleasant (all things considered) way. And my lesson is totally learned - sometimes being a bada** means just staying the flip put and waiting for better conditions to travel!

Teaching Yoga Pregnant/Teaching Pregnant Yoga

In less than a week (actually, it's now TODAY!) I travel to Omaha to complete my final training module to become a prenatal yoga instructor and in two weeks (ONE!), I will step into that role in real time, holding my very first prenatal class at avani on Feb. 8. I have been reading and taking classes and observing classes and pinning away class ideas for months now and am so very darn excited to begin this amazing work. I am also humbled and honored by the auspicious timing of my fourth pregnancy that has aligned to allow me to grow right along with my prenatal students through the rest of the winter, spring and most of what will most likely be a really hot spent-inside-the-beautiful-AC summer. I honestly can't think of a better way to learn and grow as a new prenatal teacher than to be right there in the thick of it with my mamas-to-be, experiencing many of the same physical and emotional changes in, again, real time. Amazing.

As it stands, I have already been teaching yoga while pregnant for four weeks now. Actually, I was teaching yoga while pregnant before that, too, just unknowingly. Remember my Winter Solstice? How incredible it will be to tell this sweet babe one day that s/he once did 108 sun salutations inside my belly!

Teaching during this last month, though, has been interesting. Very few people knew about the pregnancy prior to my first OB appointment, so I can only imagine what my students thought of my unexplained windedness while cueing during class (oh.my.gosh! did that get bad and fast! within a week of discovering I was pregnant, I was already finding myself breathless at times during a class and that was when I was just walking around - not even demonstrating!) or my worse-than-when-I-started mix-ups of Left and Right. You trying mirroring your L/Rs with a fourth case of Mommy Brain. Trying stuff, I tell you! And then, of course, there are the demos. For my Basic class, especially, I tend to demonstrate much of what they do in their postures, but I've begun to (at least try to) show less, cue more, in part for the breathlessness but also because I don't want to do all of it. Some of that has to do with energy level, some with poses I want to begin avoiding because of my pregnancy (see? already putting my prenatal training to good use!). But since none of them knew my real reason for holding back, I can only guess what they might have been thinking.

In one case, I actually got called out during class by a jokingly asked question of, "Are you trying to tell us something, Jenni?" after having them do Rock the Baby and then Happy Baby poses back-to-back, and all I can say is, I am grateful they were on their backs and not looking at my face at the time because it totally would have given me away. Side note: it was eventually really great to share with the friend who asked the question because her reaction to finding out she was "right" was pretty funny.

Even though I am definitely starting to have moments/hours/days of constant queasiness, I am hoping that my yoga practice will sustain and carry me through the next six weeks especially. I have been doing more home practice as of late instead of at the studio, to avoid certain poses and questions about why I'm not doing them just yet, but when I've been teaching this last month, I actually tend to feel pretty good. Winded? Tired? Yes, at times. But the same joy I've always felt from my practice and from teaching are still there and it actually seems to make the nausea subside for a bit, either because I have something else to think about or because the practice just makes my body feel better. I have noticed, though, that while it feels great in the moment, I am starting to crash pretty hard after I get done - either hungry or nauseous (or both - how is that possible?) and tired for sure. So while it would be great to say, Yes! Add more classes!, in reality I need to remember to slow down and take care of myself, too.

Of course, as more people hear about the baby (and as my belly starts to grow!), it will be more easily apparent as to why I am teaching in a different manner in the coming months. And I am so grateful that my first foray into prenatal teaching will be such a meta experience, for I cannot think of a better way to learn than to be living, breathing, and doing it myself, too.

Now. Off to pack so I can hit the road, meet up with my Lotus lovelies, and embrace all that is to come in Module Three!!!

Like trees, we bend so we do not break. 

Follow the Sun (again)

For the last week (at least), I have been super excited, waiting for today to arrive. Not only is it Sunday (one of my fave days to teach yoga), it is also the Winter Solstice, which means in yoga world, time to celebrate the arrival of the new season with 108 Sun Salutations. Remember back (when Facebook was still letting people see blog links that I post!) to when I wrote about this in June? Participating in my first 108 with a studio full of yogis was so, so cool. It proved to be a physical challenge but one that was also super rewarding because it made me feel connected not only to my own body but the larger yoga community that exists both in my own town and around the world, too.

The beauty of this individual accomplishment that aligns so perfectly with group energy turned out to be very much the case again for the Winter Solstice, but in an entirely different way. Because this solstice happened to fall on a Sunday, the yoginis of avani decided, naturally, to hold the Winter 108 in place of my normal Sunday Flow, and it was given to me to lead. I was pumped and also a little bit like whoa because I know what a marathon this event can be and that there would be no way I could lead/complete at the same time. Cue and count and do all at the same time? Not for me, my friends! So instead, I figured out a way to count/keep track of my salutations on my own yesterday and after tossing and turning most of the night (is it time? is it time?!), I got up at 5:00 this morning and headed downstairs to complete my own yoga marathon well ahead of leading the one at the studio at 9:00. Here is what my mat looked like when I started:

The dark stones I used by moving one to the other side of the mat each time I completed a sun salute (if you don't know what one entails, read the link above from the Summer 108 - it details all the steps that equal one salutation). When all 10 shifted, I moved a clear stone to the right and then started moving the dark ones back again. I believe my Math Man husband called this a Base 10 system when I showed it to him? You know words are my thing, so that I devised a system that is actually a legitimate math Thing is fun, eh? The eight red stones lined up on the left were for the last eight rounds. At the studio we lead everyone through the first 100 as a group and then give them time to complete the last ones on their own, so I wanted to mark my final eight in a special way, too. And you know what? It totally worked!

It was dark when I started and when I ended (and OMG, apparently we needed to do many more SSs today because it is another gray day in a what has been about 1 hour of sunshine in the last 10 days!), but I had some soft light coming from the Christmas lights on our mantle to keep me going, as well as my beloved music, and my first 108 solo felt amazing. Last summer I could barely do five full salutations with full chaturangas (as opposed to on my knees), but today I did the first 54. How cool is that?! And even once I switched to my knees, I still caught myself sometimes in the middle of a full one before realizing my error, but c'mon - if you're going to make mistakes, this seems like a good route to go. Because it was early and I had the main floor of the house to myself, I took my time and completed in about an hour - just before the first Little came downstairs to find me, which was perfect. 

After the rest of the house awoke, I was able to get cleaned up (because 108 brings not only the sun but also the heat!) and ready to head to the studio. Because my parents were here for early Christmas, Ben also got to come to the event which was so awesome because he's never been able to make it to one of my classes before and this was a pretty special one for him to hit. As for how it all went? Well, a few lessons learned. 

      1) Don't drink coffee prior to leading 108. I know enough to not do this before taking a yoga class now (learned the hard way), but oof. When you are super excited for an event, drinking coffee right before it starts is going to amp you up a wee bit too much. I'm a fast talker anyway, so trying to cue through the caffeine and my own energy level? It was a bit challenging at first! 

     2) Cueing 108 sun salutes is going to make you tongue tied. I chose to give breath and posture cues the whole way through and while I did well for probably 93% of them, the ones I did flub were rather comical (but perhaps, unfortunately, a little distracting for the yogis who joined me this morning). I don't care what you're trying to say - say it that many times in a row and you are going to make mistakes. As a result, each time an error occurred or when I felt my own monkey mind starting to wonder, I hoped right into the flow with my group, completing a dozen or more extra rounds throughout the studio event. While I thought this would be impossible because I'd be so shot from doing my own, it turned out that the extra ones actually felt great and grounding (which was good, because hi - see Lesson #1!). Again - the power of my practice and strength are such great gifts and when I look at how far I've come in a little over a year, I am floored. 

     3) Seeing your husband and friends and fellow teachers and students and local yogis complete 108, especially the last individual rounds, is a potential breeding ground for emotion. I was so honored to be there, much less leading the darn thing, so being witness to the energy, strength, determination, and beauty of all the people who joined me this morning? It got to me a little bit. The opportunity I've been given to teach and lead in a practice that means so much to me? Full as it may make the schedule some weeks, I don't take it for granted ever because I'm too honored and too humbled to be anything but grateful for the role I've been given. 

After everyone finished and enjoyed their savasana, we celebrated and laughed and chatted for a while before everyone went on their way for the rest of their first day of Winter. When I made it back to the house, I hopped on the mat for one more round so Ben could snap some pics. Full disclosure? My arms were so tired, I about dropped on my face in chaturanga, but then I inhaled up into Upward Facing Dog and again felt my heart lift and fill with the joy of this day and this opportunity and this life. Whatever is to come in this new season, I am ready to greet it with warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. Best wishes that you may do the same! 

Added bonus of the day? OMmazing leg warmers hand-knit by the
daughter of one my favorite faces from the studio. I requested these all of two
days ago and not only were they already done and so, so fantastic, they
totally matched my outfit! The auspiciousness of 108 strikes again! 

Fake It 'Til You Make It

Living in the present. This is a primary goal for many yogis/folks in general and there are some major benefits to doing so. Not wishing your days away? Another excellent approach to your life's journey, especially since none of us know the true sum of our endless numbered days (musical reference? anyone?). All that being said, though, I find myself entering December with a slight attitude of being ready to close out this calendar year.

2014? It's been a Dicken's-sort-of-year, and on many levels, I have worked my arse off during all of the ups and downs. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, this year has brought more challenge and growth than any other I can remember. From intense therapy sessions to my yoga marathon and now my three part-time jobs on top of the ever present full-time mama gig, I've had my hands full. And not that any of this schedule and plate spinning is going to go away, necessarily, but I guess I'm looking forward a bit to 2015 with the hope of it bringing more settling, more slow down, and more time to just be (which is ironic seeing as I'm tapping my toes waiting for January to arrive, not quite able or willing to just be in the now NOW. How very human and humbling is that?!).

For one, there won't be any more training marathons after January - at least not for a while. Once I finish my prenatal modules, I'm taking a step back from adding hours and certifications so I can focus on where my own practice is and really hone in on the prenatal stuff. I am so beyond excited to bring prenatal yoga to Hastings, but you can bet your sweet, sweet bippies that I want to do so in the best and safest manner possible for those mamas-to-be! So, yes. Time to study. Time to prepare. Time to practice. That is part of what I hope to find in 2015.

Another hope I have is to continue enjoying the progress I have made in the last year. The calm and the peace and the reserve I've been working on and stock piling? I already see their benefits when I'm able to handle the changes in schedule or the inevitables and randoms that pop up when you are parenting little Littles. Although, some days, I'm learning that the best approach is to fake it 'til I make it. Like today, when I wanted to put on my Eff You Tuesday pants (but opted for my pink elephant tank instead) when for the second time in as many weeks, my plans that I made for myself to have an actual daylight hours break away from the house mid-week fell through (dramatic pause and eyes closed HD glare when you say the next word) again. The first time it happened, I made a girlfriend laugh when I said, "Silly me. I thought I was actually going to get time to myself." But today felt less funny and more isolating than anything as it served as a reminder that during the day, I'm on my own. If a babysitter can't come, I can't get away. Duh, right? But when that reality smacks me in the face, especially when I've tried to carve out some time to take care of myself, it can be overwhelming and deflating.

The beauty in these moments of too much (and what feels, selfishly, like not enough) comes in the breath. That I am here and I am blessed to keep breathing. That I get to keep taking deep breaths as I fake my way through the let down or the sadness until suddenly I find myself on the other side. Sometimes it takes many, many breaths to get there, you know?

Today's other side? Brought to me by yoga, of course. I taught a lovely class this afternoon and quite openly acknowledged just how Tuesday-ish Tuesday can be. We laughed and we moved and we made it. Step One. Also boosting my spirits tonight? The fact that a babysitter did come through for this evening so the hubs and I could have yoga date night - one of our rare but favorite occurrences. Also also boosting? Today I observed, both when teaching and when taking, a shift in my body. Suddenly (even though I know it's not sudden - it's a year+ of work), my hips are more open and I'm coming deeper into pose after pose after pose. And for the first time ever? Tonight?! I got up in upward facing bow! Urdhva Dhanurasna (which is one of my favorite Sanskrit names because it sounds just as fierce as the pose is) in the house (or rather, on the mat!!!!)!!!!

Tried to recreate it at home - had to use the baseboard to help and yes, my hands
are nowhere near where they need to be (under my shoulders) but are you
kidding me?! This is huge progress!!!

So even though this day turned out to be not what I planned (wait. are they ever?), and I'm tired and the dishes still aren't done, I'm going to call it a success because it was another step. Toward the new year? In the right direction? To the yogini I desire to be? Yep, yep, and yep.

To continue taking breaths and steps - it is all any of us can hope to do.

The Slow Down

When it comes to learning styles, I am very much a visual kind of gal. Actually, I am a seer/doer. I need to see it happen and then I need to have the freedom to try it with my own hands (and possibly in my own way). Perhaps all of this explains why I prefer to be able to demonstrate postures when I teach yoga. I like to circulate and keep an eye on everyone in my class, of course, but I also like to hop on the mat and lead the way as we flow together for an hour. Demonstrating feels important for my Basic Flow class, especially, because many of the people who come are new or relatively new to the practice and aren't yet familiar with the asanas to the point of being able to find the pose by name only. I know there are some schools of thought/yoga that require absolutely no demonstrating - cueing and watching the students, only. While I am happy to keep working on my cueing skills so I can someday get students through a complicated (or even basic) sequence with words only, for the time being I am very grateful to be more of the see it/do it mold. One problem with my preferred teaching style, however, becomes apparent when injury occurs, as it unfortunately did this week.

I awoke Thursday morning and felt perfectly fine, perfectly normal until I got out of bed and instantly knew something was very, very wrong. Somehow my neck was completely out/locked up and I had shooting pain if I so much as tried to glance at my left shoulder, much less actually turn my head that direction. It was awful. And did I mention Ben was out of town?! Thankfully his mom was here so after I got HD to school, I was able to buzz up to GI to see my chiropractor and I then began the waiting game. The slow it down, take it easy game. No sudden movements and no activity. As you can imagine, that's not easy to do with a house full of Littles, but somehow I kept still enough through the rest of Thursday and Friday to get me to Saturday where I started feeling better and began to get some of my range of motion back with both my neck and my arms (try lifting your hands over your head to change your shirt or wash your hair when your neck is out...not fun!).

Thank goodness the relief came when it did because I had my regular Sunday Flow to teach this morning and on Thurs/Fri I wasn't so sure I'd be able to do it because I was in that much pain. This morning, feeling much improved but still not "better," I knew going in that I would not be able to do all - not even most - of the practice with them. But we talk all the time in yoga about honoring your body and meeting yourself where you are today, so today I had to live that. I showed up on the mat and did what I could. Nothing more. And, really? That was OK. It was strange to not flow right along with my class but I enjoyed watching my Sunday morning yogis find their own way through the sequence and trusting their bodies and their knowledge when it came to landing in the postures. They all got there and together they built a beautiful class full of gratitude, and, well, thanksgiving, which was totally the point of the class.

Those of you who know me, know I love themes. I've said before that themeing is one of my favorite aspects of yoga teaching and nothing has changed for me there. I love building a sequence based on a certain body area or chakra or goal, such as heart opening or gratitude building. Actually, those are pretty much the same thing because having an open heart is to have a grateful heart and what a beautiful way to move through a yoga practice both on and off the mat. So, yes. This week's classes are bent at gratitude - both for elements within ourselves and also within our lives in general. And that gratitude felt very real, very present for me today, even though I was limited in my movements, because just to be there at all felt like such a wonderful gift.

The other cat that clearly came out of the bag during class this morning, is that my music/playlists totally match my mood for the day/week. When I teach Happy Hour on Fridays? I get fairly sassy and start throwing in funkier songs with wilder lyrics. When I've been feeling run down or have hurt myself? The tunes chill way out and take on a whole different vibe. I like to keep the messages in the music positive still, if I can, because for me, the music and the movements are both essential parts of the practice. Clearly I am not the only one because I often have people make comments about the music after class and I am always happy to share the music love, whether it is the funkier and fun or the milder and mellow. To me, the music becomes about the connection with my head, my heart, and my breath; I realize this may not vibe historically with yoga, but again, I remain grateful to be who and where and when I am because these are the elements that make me feel full, even when I'm physically taken down a degree (or ten).

Even though it is easy to get spun up in the rush and hubbub of the holidays, I hope you all find your own slow down (hopefully not necessitated by injury!) and happy connection with others this week. Be sure to take care of you and honor where you are right now in life, so that your hearts remain open and full of thanks.

With much love and peace, Namaste!

Early Morning Confusion

OH, my. So I know some of you saw my Facebook post yesterday about non-sleeping and feverish babies, right? Well, yesterday turned into quite the day with stage five clingers, an RL fever over 102, and a two-hour stint at Convenient Care because our regular doctor's office was so overly jammed with patients that they couldn't possible see us until this morning and the cough Lincoln woke up with after his nap was too alarming to wait overnight. It was, clearly, A Day, full of breathing treatments and leaky faucet faces and crying whenever I set one of them down (except for when we watched Curious George: Christmas Monkey (twice)). And all of this after Lincoln had The Worst Night of All the Nights on Sunday. He made noise all evening long and that continued after B & I turned in for the night even though nothing was wrong any of the multiple times we checked/changed him. After midnight, I took the upstairs room so Ben could get some sleep before school and I saw every single hour on the clock the rest of the night/morning. At best, I got 1.5 hours of sleep in a row. Perhaps that explains what happened to me this morning?

This morning was to be my first early morning sub at the Y for their 5:45 a.m. flow. This has been on the books for weeks now and I was so ready. After I got home from subbing a class at the studio last night, I set everything out in the kitchen, just like a kid on the first day of school. KindleFire (my music source) with special 45-min playlist, written-out sequence, water bottle & granola bar,  and purse - all ready to grab and go when my alarm went off at 5:15. And yes, I set my alarm. Trust me, I checked it at least five times last night and then stared at it forever this morning when I discovered at 5:59 that I was very much still in bed and very much not subbing! Oof. So not cool.

The second the time and my location registered, I grabbed my phone, saw that I had a bunch of missed calls and instantly dialed the number back, apologizing the minute the other end picked up. To that person's amusement, I was in full-on panic mode and didn't even realize who I was calling! It was not my supervisor (which I should have known because, hi, I have her number in my phone already! but I refer you back to panic mode to explain this confusion) but a friend from the studio who knew I was subbing today and had planned to come to class. She was obviously at the Y and knowing that a no-show, or even being late, is not my norm, called to check on me. Thankfully she said folks were fine and being gracious about everything, but oh, my. I felt so bad. And so confused!

I honestly have no idea what happened. Did the alarm go off? Did I turn it off? Did I not set it properly? I know I was super tired and worn the eff out after yesterday and the previous night of poor "sleep" but I was so ready to do this today, so what the world? At least everyone has been understanding of the mistake and I still have Thursday of this week and next Tu/Th to redeem myself. And you can know I am serious when I say that I'll set more than one alarm to make sure I get there!

Five Lessons

Dinking around on Pinterest the other day (shocker), I came across a pin for a blog post about five lessons learned from a woman's year on the mat and my breath caught for a moment in my chest. It took that second for the pieces to click, but wow - I totally could have written that tagline, especially since the one-year anniversary of my practice is swiftly approaching at the end of this month. Crazy (pants). Rather than read it (I promise, I will go back and find it/share it because it's only fair to give credit where credit is due), I decided to write my own. So here you go: Five Lessons from My Year on the Mat: 

1) Music heals my soul. This is not really new news, but holy mother of wow - the music is as much a part of my practice as the movements. It is what drew me instantly to avani and made doing my 200 at Lotus House a no brainer. Both studios are well-versed in song and the teachers at both places know the power of a well-played tune. Sequencing my classes to teach? Awesome. Making the playlists to go along with each one? Even more awesome. It's beautiful how music can reach inside and touch or heal a part of you (and thank goodness for Spotify so I didn't blow our entire budge on iTunes this last year. Oof!)

2) Crazy pants are awesome. I get it. Crazy pants are not the point of yoga. Neither are pairs that cost $100 (which, for the record, I do not own). Yoga is not about what you wear or from what store you get you gear. It's just not. That being said, I love me a good pair of crazy yoga pants. To me they represent the fun and flavor and flare that can accompany one's journey on the mat because so much freedom and confidence can come from yoga, so why not embrace the crazy pants if/when you can? I like the expressiveness and daringness that can come from sporting some funky leg wear (and yes, I have a pair dubbed the "Eff You, Tuesday" pants which probably doesn't seem very yoga of me, but some days are just special, ya know?). So even though crazy pants are nowhere near the eight limbs, you won't find me complaining that they are part of today's yoga scene in the States. My inner teenager - the one who was not always confident enough to wear the crazy pants back in the day - is flying her freak flag high and loving every minute of it.

3) Yoga is soooo much more than the physical practice. Perhaps I am lucky because I did not originally come to the mat for a workout. Actually, I know I am lucky for that because exercise in the past has been an unhealthy obsession for me, but since I came to yoga to help quiet/slow/calm my mind, the physical benefits of it sort of snuck up on me. After a few months, I could hold poses better and longer. After six months I had muscles in places that haven't seen strength or tone since B.C. (which basically puts me back to 2008). And after my 200YTT? I had some pretty kick ass muscles (and others that just felt kicked, but there you go - balance - another benefit of yoga!). in a lot of places! And while the physical poses are obviously important, I've learned that the mental and emotional and spiritual components are just as powerful. Maybe even more so. Living your yoga? That's where the real transformation comes from and comes into play. Taking the "you" on the mat (strong, beautiful, loved) and carrying that through your day-in-day-out? That's beginning and living the true work, my friends.

4) Shit's gonna change. I suppose there's a more PG way to say that, but I don't think any of the PG ways would really carry the same meaning. Some shit is going to get better. Some shit is going to have to get much worse before it starts to get better. And some shit might come up again and again and again. That's life. That's part of the practice. The point is that you keep coming back to the practice, back to the mat, back to yourself to try again. Maybe it's a pose. Maybe it's your breath. Maybe it's your brain working through stuff (see - there I used PG and I don't know - it's just not the same) you didn't even know was there. Maybe it's learning to walk away from shit that no longer serves you, whether that takes the form of thoughts, behaviors, people, or all of the above. It's not easy. But it is real and it is learning to live to the best of your ability and what greater gift can you give yourself but that?

5) A year can change everything. Some people believe that people, as a general rule, do not change. I have to disagree. While I am not a completely different person from a year ago, I am a better version of myself. I'm happier, sleeping better (most of the time), more fit (physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually), and I now get paid when I "go to work" at my dream job. That's a c.r.a.p. ton of awesome for just 12 short months and a lot of hard work and change, too. So whatever it is that you want to do? Do it. Start now and see where you are in 12 months. You might just go and shock yourself with everything you accomplish, which is what I feel when I look at this last year of yoga. It's not too late and it's never the wrong time. Open your heart. Find your center. Stretch - your mind and your body. You might just be amazed at what is waiting to greet you when you do!

Here is the inspiration post - I read it after I wrote my list and I do have to say, some of you might appreciate her No.4 (but like her, I'm going to keep talking about it. A lot.)

With Much Love and Peace - Namaste!

I'll Stop the World and Churn with You

Yowzers. That's really all I can say about the last two days (with one ommazing day left to go) of this first weekend of prenatal yoga teacher training. There have been some extremely personal and emotional moments, as expected, and I'm also really getting that flame of excitement burning for teaching prenatal yoga, not to mention Baby Fever (as in, wow, I want to have another baby). As for fixing that fever, well, another yoga mantra is going to have to see me through until it happens, because unless I "relax around the process" (thanks S.S. and K.J.), I'm going to work myself into a tizzy about adding Welschie No.4 and clearly that's not going to do any of us any good. The beauty of this weekend is that it reflects my own ideas on timing and auspiciousness which is when all the good things come together at just the right moment, which also means I've got to relinquish control. Just let it be (omg, love this song...it's the grown up version of the Frozen anthem and so very awesome). That's hard for a Type-A Lifer, but I'll keep trying.

Besides fanning/trying to contain the Baby Fever Flame, this weekend has delved into everything from body image and self love to chandra namaskar (moon salutations), definitions of womanhood, birth stories, and female empowerment. We're talking about some serious stuff here, my friends. Lots of emotions and feelings and ideas have been flying around the studio this weekend, so thank goodness for the sense of peace/home I feel here now (after my marathon summer stay) and for the amazing friends - old and new - that I have to surround and support me with love right now. It doesn't even matter if we know in the moment why there are tears in the other person's eyes - we are are there with quick hugs or shoulder squeezes and acceptance and love for each other. What an amazing gift that is, because, hi, have there been moments of tears.

For me the most emotional part of this weekend has been the concept of womanhood, seconded by body acceptance which is obviously an on-going journey for me. The definition of womanhood and understanding/seeing/accepting myself as a woman is something I've come to see this year in relation to my repressed trauma. Prior to this past winter, I never understood why I had such a hard time even referring to myself as a woman, but when certain choices that relate to your definition of womanhood are taken from you, it's hard to be at peace with the idea of suddenly being one. Does that make even an iota of sense? I feel like I'm talking in some bizarre code here, but there was a moment Friday night when we were talking about body part names, specifically the female sex organ being named in relationship to the man's, that just set me off. Logically I've known that I don't have to define myself as a woman in relationship to a man or sex or anything other than being a woman, but something about that conversation sparked an emotional reaction in me that was such a release. Do I have my new definition (man, I am really trying to rewrite my vocabulary these days, aren't I?) yet? Well, no, not entirely. But I'm getting there, which is why - again - the perfect timing (the auspiciousness) of these modules is so awesome. I get to be surrounded by amazing women and learning from an incredible woman and by the time this certification is over? Well, by then I fully expect to have my new way to view and define womanhood which will allow me to accept myself as such.

And while it was a red eye moment Friday night and another tears-in-the-ears flow class on Saturday (and who knows what/when it will come today!), I'm already feeling so much more at peace. Not even a hint of tears as I write this, actually, which in itself is pretty damn impressive. I'm also beginning to see that that - the dealing w/ of one's own shtuff - is one of the goals of this training. To be able to serve the mamas and the women in our classes, we have to be working on our issues, too. Thank goodness yoga is a moving meditation/prayer/mind-body-connection that enables a person to work through all.the.things in a healthy and helpful way. So bring on the tears and the news words and definitions and all the other beauty and soul searching...may it be a never-ending process of tuning in and opening up to all that is within and all that is possible. Which, omg, reminds me that I never explained the title of this post! We learned yesterday about the story of Lakshmi and how she was churned out of the ocean of milk (just read the link; it will make more sense than I will right now) and how it this churning - this work that we do in our lives - that brings about our power and our souls. So yes, I'll stop the world and churn with you my friends. Any time. <3

Keep On, Keepin' On

A few weekends ago, while planning for upcoming classes, I stumbled upon the song "Try" by Colbie Calliat. Have I mentioned how much I love Spotify? Well, the love affair continues because without Spotify, I wouldn't have this song and it's been on heavy rotation here at home and in my yoga classes  ever since because its message is so very strong. So very good (and good for me, especially).

The lines that first caught my attention were "Keep it slim, so they like you. Do you like you?" and then, later and similarly, "Wait a second/Why should you care, what they think of you/When you're all alone, by yourself, do you like you? Do you like you?"

At the time, I was planning a flow about opening the heart and, essentially, loving yourself. Self-acceptance/self-love/seeing a physical self-worth is a huge part of my yoga practice and my life in general these days. Struggling with body issues and body image has been with me for pretty much my entire adult life and while it will perhaps always be a part of me, I'm working, working, always working, on reframing. I figure, if I can work to see my calendar as full instead of crazy, I can learn to see my body as something other than flawed, too. I haven't figured out my reframing word yet, but that's part of the process. Somehow, I think this song is going to be part of my healing.

Here's the thing. When the lyrics ask that question, "When you're alone, do you like you?" my answer is yes. Confident, loud, YES. I have a kick-ass and beautiful soul. And while I can logically tell myself that my body is an extension of that awesomeness, it's still hard for me to see it, especially in pictures. I've made strides, at least, in terms of my reflection in the mirror. When I'm strolling down the street (insert Pete the Cat lyrics stuck in your head the rest of the day - you're welcome), I feel good. I feel strong and fit and like I look good. Same thing, now, when I look in the mirror. I'm learning to focus on the good and eventually see it as all good. But then a picture pops up with a less-than-flattering angle or double chin or flabby arm or whatever and I'm instantly two-feet-tall, thinking, oh.my.gosh.is.that.what.i.look.like?is.that.what.others.see?c.r.a.p.! and so on with the mental spiral. And there you have it - my insecurities and desire for acceptance from others both get me comparing and judging myself and, seriously, what good can come of that? None from what I can see, so the work - the healing - the self-acceptance continues to be part of my life. Part of my process and my practice.

Although the lyrics tell me I don't have to "try so hard" there is still effort involved here. I do have to keep trying to let go of the desire to look a certain way to others. I can't control what they think, anyway, so what I think is what counts. I have to keep telling myself, it's just a picture. It's just a bad angle. It's just a whatever. It's not a true reflection of me, especially if what I feel and see are otherwise. And since what matters on the inside matters most, I know that I need to keep feeding my soul in order to keep my outer shell shining, too. The nice thing is, I have this amazing gig where I get to share my soul and my passion with other people three or four times a week and I get to encourage both them and myself with the mantras and positivity and the radical self-love that accompanies my yoga classes. And it's not just a load of b.s., either. When you hear me talking in class about being strong or awesome or beautiful or loved or in control or that slowing down is the best thing ever, I mean it. For you and for me. I believe what I tell my students and I believe that I need to hear it as much as I need to say it. So I say it.

And the answer to that question remains: Yes, I do like me. And yes, I do like you. Even though this physical body and I are still trying to strike our balance together, I already know I'm on the right path, following the right steps to eventually find that harmony. This acceptance - this authenticity, is what I seek in my life right now. I believe in the good and I look for people who do the same while also remaining open to showing their real selves and their own ups and downs and those will accept me and mine, too. I also work every day to make sure my kids know it's OK to be sad and mad - that it is what you do with it that counts - and that's for the grown ups, too. It's about knowing when you need to slow down or open up or step back from that which no longer serves you. And if wearing masks or worrying about if others think you look fat in a photo no longer serves you, find a way to take it off or see yourself anew. That's what I'll be doing every.damn.day for as long as it takes to just be enough. Thank goodness for the amazing guides and teachers and friends and family I have to walk with me on this journey.

And thank goodness for other seekers out there who acknowledge that we, as women, as moms, as humans, don't have to try so freaking hard. We are who we are. We are enough. And in case you need a wee bit more convincing, watch the video for "Try" - somehow, it wasn't until just today that I searched The Great Google to see if there was a video, and wow, is there a video (and wow did it make tears spring into my eyes). It is so powerful for anyone who has ever struggled with body image or societal pressure (or internal pressure) to fit in, be a certain size, or look a particular way.  Please, take four minutes and watch it, would you? And, fair warning to those of you who come to practice yoga with me - don't be surprised if you hear this song again and again and again; its message is worth repeating and believing, so sharing it is what I will continue to do.

Upside Down

It's safe to say that, thanks to Spotify, we listen to a c.r.a.p.ton of music in our house and the Littles and I really enjoy having pretty much any song right at our fingertips. Yesterday, Miss Raegan got sick (boooooo!), and to keep her contained and entertained, I pulled up our beloved Curious George on the good old Spotify. The first song on that soundtrack happens to be "Upside Down" (we know it well in our house) and it turned out to be the perfect fit for the yoga workshop I took last night in terms of both movement and music (since it totally came on mid-way through the event).

In a beautiful bit of worlds coming together, avani worked it out so that one of my(our) teachers from Omaha came to do a Building Blocks of Handstand Workshop with us last night. I've known about it on our schedule for weeks, but I did not know right away that Suzanne would be teaching us handstands. Remember some of my freak outs from this summer? Pretty much anything that involves my wrists or inverting gets me going, so let's just say I was a wee bit Oh. Really? Handstands?! when I discovered what she would be working on with the Hastings yogis. But I love my studio and I love my Lotus teachers, so of course I was still game and ready to give it a whirl even though I have serious trust issues when it comes to asanas such as this.

Who knows what in the mental/emotional world I'm not trusting in these poses, (I'm sure there are multiple connections there), but physically, I get so freaked out when I am asked to balance in any way because I am terrified of falling. Well, not any way. I'm fine with balance poses when I'm upright. But you ask me to invert and balance on my hands? I start to sweat. And I know this sweat-inducing anxiety stems from my back. Chronic back pain will do that to a person, ya know? I just don't look at risky (to me, anyway) poses the same way others might. My motivation or drive to get upside down is skewed because I have a very real fear of injury should I come out of the pose incorrectly (which is so beyond likely when you are learning this kind of stuff). Do I want to learn more advanced poses and challenge myself (any other Doane folks remember that lovely catchphrase?)? Absolutely. Do I want to learn how to take my ego out of the equation so I can accept that inverting and arm balances may or may not come in this lifetime? Even more so than absolutely.

As for the workshop, things went really well. Suzanne's approach was spot on to both guide and challenge us but to also help us see that whether or not we got up in a handstand didn't really matter. What mattered was the trying. The being open and vulnerable. The climbing the mountain and "looking over the cliff" as that is often the scariest part. [For the record: the scariest part of last night was our prep work that involved cartwheeling across the studio. I don't know about any of you, but it's been a decade or two since I've cartwheeled, much less than in a procession line or on display in front of my peers/students/friends/strangers/husband. Terrifying! And my first two attempts were not pretty - not at all. Suzanne observed that I was dropping my top hip on my way over and I don't doubt it because we hold a c.r.a.p.ton of shtuff in our hips and opening up/trusting that activity? Whoosah is all I can say. Oddly enough, when I attempted to let my left side lead (which is where I feel the most of my back pain and have the wonky wrist), I did much better. I don't know if I followed the hand/hand/foot/foot thing better at that point or kept my hips engaged or what, but I pulled off at least one decent-ish cartwheel, so there you go - a baby step up the mountain on my way to inverting and going up on my hands, and after all, this life is forever a series of such steps.]

Post-cartwheels, the rest of the workshop time flew by in an instant. We worked through our building blocks which included our hippy (hippie? ;) ) hops and experimenting with lifting and shifting while on our hands. See those red legs? Those are mine trying to catch some air on the hops which were intense, although not quite cartwheel-intense (which might just be a new catchphrase for me when faced with tests in life), thankfully.

And when we later broke into groups of three to give the handstand a go? Well, that was more cartwheel-esq crazy, but there was a moment - like three seconds - where I got up (with a support on one leg from a spotter) and I felt the energy line drawing up through my core and it was pure awesomesauce. Granted, when I tried again, I was did not have hips above shoulders and was therefore at a diagonal, but I think there might have been a point in that first attempt where I actually sort of kind of did it. Or at least I took another baby step in the right direction, which is pretty awesome.

In true yoga (and anyone related to my YTT experience) form, however, last night was not without some emotional moments. We began the night with a little group huddle/chat in which Suzanne talked to us about working our way up the mountain and being vulnerable and sheesh, if that didn't make little tears spring into my eyes. And when we were asked to close our eyes and think of a time in which we were open and vulnerable in the past? Well, that got me, too, because I instantly flew back to the night in January when I first asked my avani girls about where to go for teacher training and look at what has transpired since then! Taking the risks and opening yourself up to challenge (and possibly hurt) - in whatever form it takes - can bring about such great growth and change. Will that openness someday bring a literal change of perspective in my life that allows me to channel George and "turn the whole thing upside down" to see the world anew? Well, "who's to say what's impossible?!" A year ago I wasn't even practicing yoga much less thinking about teaching it, but here I am as a direct result of opening up and trying something new. There really is no telling what may come next. A hand stand or one of my other arm balance goals? Why not?!

Balance Your Chemistry

Does anyone else in this world still keep a paper calendar? My phone is less than smart, so I still use a white board on my fridge to keep track of our weekly comings and goings (and meals so I don't get to lunch on a Wed. or supper on a Thurs. and go ummmmmmm, what are we going to eat???) and a wall calender to keep the "big picture" in mind for each month. While I am more than OK traveling through this world without a smart phone, this whole seeing the big picture every time I walk through my kitchen, when the big picture is quite, well, busy and large, is starting to freak me out a wee bit. I would take a picture and post it but I'm afraid it would just freak you out, too. I mean, what has gotten into September this year?! And as my hubs so correctly (and alarmingly) pointed out, we don't even have kids in activities yet! Yikes!

To make my calendar anxiety worse, October looks to be even less calm, at least for the first week or so. I've been scheduled for a month now to head to Omaha the first weekend of October to my first prenatal yoga teaching module (OMG, cannot even properly express to you how excited I am about that! but hello, textspeak, bold, and italics!), and this last week has brought at least four, if not five, opportunities/events to my attention for that same weekend. Obviously I can't do them all - actually I can't do any of the extras because my module will last the whole weekend and, sorry (totally not sorry), but prenatal is where it's at! - even though I totally wish I could. Two of them are yoga teaching offers, kulas of sorts, that would have been awesome, and another is fun craftacular event where I could get my down with my Pinterest self, and another a fall festival, but holy wow, people. I just can't be in six places at one time! I'm even missing my ten-year reunion (how can ten years gone by even be possible?) at Doane which I was really looking forward to because the campus is gorgeous and has changed a lot in the last decade, plus it would have been fun former roommate time with my Suite 101 girls, but again, I say to you HOLY WOW. There's just too much going on right now!

And so it goes with Fall. Perhaps you've been feeling it, too? If you been to any of my yoga classes in the last few weeks (or if you come in the next few), you've heard me talk about the upcoming change in seasons and how much it impacts us, so it is not like I am surprised to be feeling overwhelmed and super busy like this, but wow (which is apparently the only word I have today to describe life today). I need me some grounding and quick!

The reason behind all this scatteredness I'm feeling (and maybe you, too?) can be tied back to the doshas of Ayurveda. I won't go into much detail because I'm not well-versed enough to teach you much, but basically Ayurveda tells us that there are three types of people in this world - Pitta (fire), Vata (wind), and Kapha (earth). Each of us has a primary dosha (mine is Pitta) and usually a secondary (Vata in my case). Each dosha responds to certain times of day, weather, food, activity, etc. and when your dosha is balanced, life is great. If your dosha gets off kilter, though, your world can seem to be spinning out of control. Enter Vata and the soon-to-be-here Fall. The winds of the season and change can mess with anyone, regardless of dosha, but if you have some Vata in you, hold on and look out! It's so easy to get caught up and swept away this time of year. A teacher of mine from Omaha posted a link on facebook today called the Vata Manifesto and I'm going to take it to heart and echo/quote my yoga buddy, Kate, (who is also a kick-asana mama, yogini, and blogger - could we have been better matched as partners this summer?!), because my Vata is obviously spinning out of control right now. Just ask my calender. Every.damn.day....tons of appointments and meetings and classes and just whoa. While much of this is an abundance of joy-bringing activity, I know I need to tread lightly. I've got to find ways to bring myself back down or I'm going to need a loan to buy a lot more coffee because I'm going to fall back into the sleepless patterns pretty quickly if I'm not careful.

Take last night, for example. I had a great evening teaching two yoga classes at avani, the second of which was all about calming the body to enhance sleep. Well, clearly I did not take my own lesson to heart because when I got home, I started doing, doing, doing things around the house while I waited for B to call it a night and then when we finally did turn in, I realized pretty quickly that, just like a young child, I had totally missed my sleep window. Before long it was 1:30 a.m. and I was still awake (and planning yoga sequences) and then it was 6:23 a.m. and HD was coming in to say "Good Morning." Oof. Let's just say I realllllly enjoyed the mocha I got from Starbucks this morning after my chiro appt. in GI! But really, I can't afford to do that all the time and my fuzzy brain today is enough of a return to last year's sleep hell that terrifies me into wanting to avoid a Vata-induced pitfall this Fall.

So. How to do this? Fabulous question. I think the biggest helper for me will be shutting it (i.e. the computer!) down at night. Not checking anything or sending anything just because it pops in my head. I can make a note of things I don't want to forget and I can do it the next morning. Also, taking the 20-30 minutes each evening that are required to clean up the kitchen and get the house ready for the next day are going to be vital. When I skip that stuff because "I'm tired" it later comes back to haunt me when I am not sleeping and thinking, "Well, poo. I should have just done it because now I'm really tired and will feel even worse tomorrow and will still have those dishes to do/c.r.a.p. to pick up, etc.!" And more than anything, I have to breathe and just trust my breath. I have to know that my body can and will slow down and I will sleep. I can calm my Vata and enjoy this beautiful time of change in the world and in myself. Because let's face it - my calendar has changed in the best way possible this September because I've been so blessed with teaching opportunities right out of the teacher-training gate. The trick now, of course, is learning how to strike a balance so I can value these external blessings while still honoring my quiet, introvert.for.life soul.

I'll let you know if I come across any good resources for staying grounded as the winds increase with the season change. This link, for example, is good, although it is not the same link mentioned above, for balancing Vata. Please share your ideas with me, too!