Emptiness

Throughout the day, I have great ideas for blog posts: a story from NPR might inspire a mental rant that would be provocative to share, a personal reflection could bring dynamic comment conversation, an article might spark new insights for all of us (and possibly more articles…).

But then I do all the things (care for Abraham, care for everyone else, care for the house, care for any work on my plate) and then…my brain is empty. I can’t remember what I wanted to write about. It’s gone.

Isn’t this why I practice yoga? Yogascittavritti nirodhah. Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind. Yoga is when the thoughts stop. And here I am, thoughts stopped.

But I don’t think that is what they really meant.

How is it that I could once wake up early, practice yoga, work all day teaching and creating theatre, go home for big conversations with roommates or yoga classes or craft projects, read a novel for fun, and then sleep peacefully? Now, I don’t do half of that in a day, but I struggle to remember to make a phone call to get my oil changed or to pick up a book at the end of the day.

I know, I know…I have an infant, don’t be so hard on myself. I’m not being hard on myself. I want to read, craft, create art, and practice yoga. And that is just solo projects. I want to spend time with my husband, talk to my far away friends (and close by friends!) and family.

But at the end of the day, I plop down at the kitchen table and mull over…facebook. Over pinterest. Over things don’t deepen my days. No offense to facebook.

But my brain is empty.  I don’t have the motivation to close Whitey (yes, my computer is named Whitey. He’s white. What would you name him?) and pick up my book/craft project/script. By 9 or 10pm, I’m not able to start a meaningful yoga practice.

So…what do you do? How do you, friends and readers, motivate yourself to do the things you love? That just sounds ridiculous – if I love them, why is it effort?

And please don’t tell me not to worry about it right now. I am not worrying, but I want to be a great mom for Abraham, a great wife for David, a great step-mom for Zoe and Nathan and I can’t if I’m not feeling like myself. You know?

Am I just writing in circles?

Eating is Yoga

So much of Abraham’s life has been so easy. He is adorable, happy, healthy, easy-going…I could go on. And I have found being a mother (not just a step-mother) to be quite easy too. I’m a little sleepy and a little slobbered-on, but I really can’t complain.

I keep rubbing up against his eating. I’ve written before about breast feeding him. I am still breastfeed him, and I intend to as long as he wants to (the WHO recommends 2 years!). We also give him bottles as a supplement, 8 or 10 ounces a day. I hate it. Every time I give him a bottle, I feel like I’m failing as a mother. Because I WANT to nurse him and I CAN’T. Because in 2003, I choose to have a breast reduction. It was badly needed and I don’t actually regret it. I just wish I could have both small boobs and milky boobs.

We went to the pediatrician today and Abraham is still small. Gaining weight and height, but a little too slowly. So more formula for him and solid food.

The food I’m excited about. He wants to eat – he sits on my lap at dinner and lunges toward the tables, reaches for my water glass, and of course puts everything, edible or not, into his mouth. I even shared my banana with him last night – he sort of licked it a while, then tried to suck. He yelped when it was finished.

He yelps when his bottles are finished too. He is hungry (how ironic that he is wearing his Very Hungry Caterpillar outfit today…”but he was still hungry”). He isn’t starving, but he wants more. And it is so hard for me to give it to him. Because every bottle feels like a failure.

I run to him when he cries from a nap, I kiss his tummy to make him laugh, I work so hard to give him a happy and comfortable life. Why can’t I enjoy feeding him a bottle?

David said to me, on our way home from the pediatrician’s office, “it doesn’t seem very yogic to not feed him” and I know it isn’t. It is selfish, it is my ego wrapped up in my identity as a breastfeed-er. I have met most of my mom friends at La Leche League for goodness sake.

I can still be a breastfeed-er and give my child a bottle or 3 to make sure he grows well. He will get the health benefits from breastmilk and breastfeeding and the caloric benefits from formula. I can snuggle him as he drinks his bottle and snap photos when he holds it himself.

How is this practicing yoga, you ask? Yoga is defined several times in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. My favorite sutra (literally thread, a piece of an idea) of late is 1.12: Abhyasa vairagyabhyam tan nirodhah – The mind is stilled by practice and dispassion.

Parenting, like yoga, is a practice. It is done uninterruptedly, with devotion, over a long time (sutra 1.14). My goal as a parent, especially to Abraham (versus the big kids where I am a secondary parent as their step-mom), is to be completely present for him and give him what he needs but then step back and let him fly. Giving him bottles is part of that.

And now I will wipe the tears out of my eyes and get a bottle ready for when he wakes up from his nap (to give him after he nurses of course).

so proud of his hand-to-mouth dexterity

ADDITION: Friends, don’t worry. I may feel like a failure of a mother inside, but I know he will be ok and I will be ok. It is a feeling and only a feeling. I appreciate your kind, private words of encouragement.

High School Again

I just finished reading Sweet Valley Confidential, the ten-years-later book about the famous identical twins, Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. I read the Twins, High, and University books as a tween and teen, so obviously I had to read the adult version.

I loved it for the memories it brought up. It is not a great piece of literature, but it isn’t supposed to be. It was just what I needed to read to get me back to reading.

Reading it of course brought me back a decade or so, and reading about their drama makes me remember mine. And makes me so glad that I am not in high school anymore. I loved high school – I learned a lot, I had great friends, I did lots of theatre and dance – but I hated all the drama.

And then I found myself facing a little high-school-esque drama today. Or was my imagination clouded by the memories brought up by this book…?

I have been teaching a yoga class for post-natal moms. Babies too, though they mostly lie around or nurse. But the moms can come and do basic yoga and if the babies cry or need to nurse, it is no big deal. Ah, so nice.

But some of my students reminded me of the girls in high school who I always felt didn’t like me. I don’t want to assume, so I will own the feeling. Something about the way these students treated me, talking during class, taking photographs of their babies (who were totally adorable and photo-worthy), coming late…it was weird.

I am super sensitive. They were probably not being intentionally rude to me. But wow, I felt like I was back in high school. I never know what to do in those situations, so  I do nothing. Doesn’t seem to help.

I overheard them telling another student that they aren’t taking the class during the next series. And I felt relief.

In high school I would have felt so sad, for it would have been a sure sign that they hated me. Now, I don’t care, and I’m glad to feel confident in my own class.

But still, I hate that I can let other people get me down.

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How am I writing this posting at 9pm? Abraham is sleeping alone and David is on his way home from work.

Post-Poop Happiness

 

Oh My Gods

I got to practice yoga. I felt like myself again.

David held the napping baby, and at first I ran around, eating and cleaning up. Then I remembered…me time. I have who-knows-how-long to do whatever-I-want. David, the best husband in the world, can get me food and tidy the kitchen. What can I do for myself that he can’t? YOGA!

I brought my bolster and other props to the living room to be near my guys. I did a short but glorious pranayama practice – I breathed my way back to myself.

Abraham woke up right as I finished, and as I nursed him, I sent a message to my yoga teacher to tell her I was back! Her response:

Tada drastuh svarupe ‘vasthanam
Then (once the mind becomes still) the seer abides in it’s true nature.
-Patanjali, the Yoga Sutras, chapter 1, v.3

Yoga brings me closer to my Self (capital intentional). Being a mother brings me closer to my Self too. My job now is to find a way to practice yoga and motherhood.

Which reminds me of another sutra:

abhyasa vairagyabhyam tan nirodhah

Practice and detachment are the 2 pillars of yoga. I think they might also be pillars of parenthood – work hard, do the best you can, and then let it go.

I keep thinking about this sutra in a big sense – I have not been able to practice in a while due to the birth of my dear child. I have been trying to detach from my own practice – not in the sense of letting go of it altogether but just letting go of the dependency. I’m still Me whether I practice yoga today or this week or this month. At this point, the yoga is in me, waiting patiently.

 

Criticism

I have always loved appropriate criticism.

If I don’t get notes at the end of a run through of a play, I worry that what I was doing in rehearsal was so boring the director couldn’t be bothered to watch, much less offer feedback.

If I don’t get corrections in a yoga class, I worry that my poses were so awful that the teacher couldn’t even deal with correcting me without the risk of holding back the whole class.

These are not worries that cause real anxiety or stress, but worries that make me work harder and in more interesting ways (I think) in the hopes of getting criticism so that I can move forward more.

I do not like being humiliated, bullied, or catching opinions about my opinions.

Iyengar yoga, the method I practice, is known for its teaching style and for giving feedback. Some students HATE this style of yoga. After being a bit of a yoga slut (practicing several different kinds of yoga), I went to one Iyengar class and I haven’t looked back.

I want to be able to recognize my own weaknesses and work on them (note: this is different from being welcoming to constant criticism of the details of my personality and heartfelt opinions). I really credit Iyengar yoga for making that make sense to me.

 

Updates

Not actually MY brain

I have several different categories that I like to write about: arts and theatre, my family, being pregnant, yoga, and personal things. Here is a general update of what’s going on in my brain these days:

1. Arts in Education – I read a great article in American Theatre Magazine about creating theatre with and for autistic students. Using theatre for its therapeutic values: building verbal and non-verbal communication skills and increasing abilities to work together. I have done this kind of work before, with autistic students as well as students with a variety of emotional issues. It is amazing to see the rapid changes in these students when they connect with the material and each other.
2. Family – My mom moved back to Florida. She had moved to PA to be close to us and the baby, but things didn’t work out according to plan. My sister and I drove down with her, stopping in North Carolina very briefly to see an Aunt and Uncle in Winston-Salem and and Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin in Charlotte. Then we continued on to Pensacola where we saw Dad and Brother, more Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins,  one Bubby, and a few friends. I was sad for my mom thather plans fell through up here, but it was nice to have a reason to see my family. I hadn’t been back to Pensacola since August of last year.
3. Myself – It is hard to separate myself from all that is going on with everything and everyone else. I have become impatient. I don’t like this, and I keep thinking since I’m aware of it, I should be able to master it, but I can’t. Yet.
4. Pregnant – He is moving more, but not kicking. I feel him pressing against my abdominal wall or spine or bladder (usually when no bathroom is in sight!). At the midwife’s office yesterday, I received a packing list for having the baby. My favorite thing on the list is juice – I love juice and if labor is an excuse to drink an over abundance, bring it on.
5. Theatre – I’ve been catching up on old American Theatre magazines (who has time for magazines of substance unless on an airplane?!). I read about theatre festivals going on all over the world; one that particularly caught my interest is in Germany and for children. No child actors, lots of mature material but in a kid-appropriate way. I want to go to there. I’ve been thinking about this play for children that I have a grant to write in 2011. I want the topic to be something mature and thoughtful and provocative, but of course for young people. I’m currently thinking of time. Big topic, but lots of possibility. And it will make David happy because it is science.
6. Yoga – My practice has changed so much. The weirdest thing is that I’ve gotten away from studying the yoga sutras. That is something I can continue even while I’m in labor (though I don’t know I’ll really be able to concentrate), but for some reason, I have stopped reading and thinking about them. Some svadyaya (self-study) may help reveal why and guide me back to the books.

What are YOU thinking about?

Practicing Practicing Yoga

It’s not a typo.

In yoga, we say we are practitioners. The Sanskrit word I like to use is Sadhaka, which is more like a dedicated-to-the-path-of-yoga-practitioner-and-devoted-student, but that obviously doesn’t translate simply into English.

My practice has changed so much in the past few months, which was to be expected. It was one thing I was really looking forward to about being pregnant (yoga practice, interesting. back pain, lack of sleep, excessive burping, less interesting).

At 7 months pregnant (29.5 weeks, but who’s counting), I feel like I have to learn how to practice yoga all over again. Which is humbling. And challenging.

We all have different labels we wear all day, and in yoga class, it isn’t always different. I was “flexible” and “a back-bender.” Those and many other identifying aspects of my practice are gone now. I’ve been a “pranayama-practitioner” and a “restorative pose lover” by my own labeling.

It turns out these are both things I needed in my practice. I have grown to love and depend on pranayama, as I’ve written about before. The art and skill of lying or sitting and just breathing is a huge challenge for me, as movement-y as I like to be. But I feel how much better my day goes if I spend the 30 minutes in the morning doing it.

And, for similar reasons, it was always difficult for me to practice restorative poses on my own. It feels so indulgent to lie around in yoga poses and rest. Isn’t that what sleeping is for?! But it turns out to be a very different kind of rest, one that I know I’ll need when Raspberry is born and as he (and the other kids) grow up.

In a few months, it will be time to move on to the post-natal practice, which means serious abdominal work and strength building to get myself back to “my practice.” My challenge to myself: Learn how to practice both of “my” practices and reap the benefits of both.

photo/photoshop credit: Emma Chong

Rabbi/Yogi

There is a Rabbi in my yoga class.

I spent a while talking to him after class one day about Judaism and yoga. Now he periodically shares tidbits of Torah that tie to the yoga teaching of the day.

Today in class, our teacher mentioned something about the windiness of fall and how we must hold on to our practices to get through it. After class, the Rabbi came up to me to share that this week, in Parshat Noach, as Noah builds his ark, he (and I can’t remember exactly…darn pregnancy brain) he is told or he decides he must cling to his practice of building the ark in the midst of the chaos all around him. Focus his mind. Just as our teacher told us to cling to our yoga practice.

On my drive home I was thinking about the habits I cling to, especially when the chaos hits. I feel like so many aspects of my life are out of my control – being a step mom, having a boss, being pregnant – my decisions are not always my own.

But I can eat Raisin Bran for breakfast. That is a habit that I don’t like to break. I find myself looking for raisins and bran all day if I have to eat something else.

In yoga, we are taught aparigraha, non-grasping. For a while I was trying to eliminate habits and routines from my life, thinking if I did, then I would have the freedom and mental space to be a real yogi. But now, being that I am a householder, a parent, a wife, a worker, etc and a yogi, I realize the value of these habits and how much I need them. How much I depend on them.

For me, in the boundaries of time, I find freedom.

Yoga + Family

I have been waking up early to practice pranayama in the mornings (pranayama is yogic breathing – controlling the inhalations and exhalations).

I’m never alone in the morning. Even if everyone is asleep, there is a symphony of snoring in the background (including the dog). If anyone is awake, I hear chatting, bouncing around, showering, and sometimes podcasts in the background. I take it all on, knowing that when Raspberry comes there will only be more chaos and I ought to learn to tune in and out as necessary now.

I struggled with a Pranayama practice at home before I was pregnant. But after I studied with Patricia Walden I decided to take it on. And I have (high five).

Pranayama is recommended for pregnant women, and it has become a necessity for me. It is a restorative practice, and somehow lying about on bolsters and blankets energizes me for the rest of the day. On the few days I don’t get to practice (when David was sick, when I forgot the alarm), I notice a different in my energy.

And I notice a difference in my mental/emotional state. Taking even 20 or 30 minutes to focus on myself and breathing keeps me calm and even-minded.

And some days, when I am very lucky, I get to continue practicing and do a regular asana (the poses) practice. Which has changed a lot since I’ve become pregnant. And always feels wonderful and keeps my body and my heart content.

I keep saying: I can’t imagine how other pregnant women survive without practicing yoga. I’m not saying this because I want you to come to my class (although I do!), but because I really feel like it saves me on a regular basis. My feet don’t swell, my back and hips don’t ache, my chest stays lifted and open, and I feel better about everything. Pregnancy and the rest of life.

If you are pregnant and you want to start yoga, I’d be happy to recommend somewhere to start. And if you aren’t pregnant, I’d be happy to recommend somewhere to start too!

Yoga in Schools

Wouldn’t it be great if, instead of playing tag every day during gym, sometimes the kids got to learn yoga?!