As I worked through my Surya Namaskar, I noticed that my breath was linking my poses more than on Day 1. I could hear it clearly, evenly, and had that sweet internal knowledge of the moment it began to slow down to teach me what my rhythm should be. My vinyasa in Surya Namaskar always takes longer on my own than in a class, because my breath gets so long in those Downward Dogs.

It’s delicious.

The flexibility will return. It’s the peacefulness that I yearn for the most, though. The peace that comes when you can still be moving yet feel like you’re sitting with something bigger than you.

For a treat, I found this video today. It’s not a Sun Salutation, but it holds the curiosity and playfulness of yoga so sweetly. Enjoy. (It made me cry. But I’m a complete and total sap.)

Related posts:

1. Sun Salute Challenge: Day 2
2. Sun Salute Challenge: Day 4.
3. Sun Salute Challenge: Day 1

credit: Kim Jones Photography

On Saturday, my almost-five-year-old tried to be quiet. And sneaky. And a secret keeper. He sat at the kitchen table, spooning up his honey-sweetened yogurt and cereal combo, and I could see his little wheels working. His thoughts are like carbonation; you can see them bubbling up as he wiggles and fidgets, and then he just lets them spill right out. He is just not a good container for all of that thinking to stay on the inside.

I was not very far away from him when I heard him “whisper” to my husband, “WHEN ARE WE GOING TO GO PICK UP MOM’S FLOWERS?” My husband looked at me with disbelief, which turned to an apologetic face, which finally resigned in a grin.

Sometimes, you just gotta go with it.

Rewind a day before to the “whispers” in a postpartum class that I am oh so honored to teach. Whispers-turned-sighs, slight smiles on the faces of new mommas who uttered soft phrases like, “Oh, I needed this,” and “This feels so good to my body.” Some of those whispers turned to tears. Little quiet tears that told stories of “I’m tired,” and “I’m so in love with this new person,” and “I’m really glad to be here.”

credit: Kim Jones Photography

Fast-forward to last night, deep in the middle of it, when I heard across the baby monitor little whimpers and lots of shifting around. There was a fever taking over the body of our 14-month-old. Those bottom molars are coming in and there were whispers of “something’s not quite right with me” and “please, please, wrap your arms around me and snuggle me away from this pain.”

Whispers are our way of releasing the deepest stuff. Stuff perhaps too fragile to weigh down with loud words. Stuff perhaps too precious to yell. Stuff, like tiny butterflies needing two hands to lift them up into the breeze and open their wings to the sun.

What would you whisper? Tell it to the wind…the grass…your best friend…your dog. Be brave and bold and really dig down deep into the stuff that is just trying to wrestle itself out of you. Ask the questions that need to be asked. Let out what needs to get out. And ever so importantly, beg to be held by those who are waiting to hold you.

Go on…

credit: Kim Jones Photography

Related posts:

1. Yes or nope.
2. Ode To My Electric Toothbrush.
3. Yoga baby.

I’ve taken a couple of days to digest the experience of the intensive. And I suppose there should be a preface to this post with a little background information.

I’m a wrestler.

I’ve wrestled a lot throughout my life with spirituality, duality, non-duality, alternative lifestyle, Christianity, yoga, and philosophy. I wasn’t raised as a yogin. In fact, I practiced asana diligently for about six years before becoming comfortable chanting the sound, Aum, though I’ve always loved being in a class when everyone else was chanting. I’ve never been to India and I don’t foresee a pilgrimage there in my near future, but I love to read about all of your journeys out there and vicariously live through you in secret.

I am what is referred to as a “householder yogin.” One who cannot afford the time or resources away from family for months at a time for immersions with teachers. One who balances soccer games and gymnastics for preschoolers, baseball games because I love them, and who colors her hair, and not with henna, because I’m afraid of going gray.

I wrestle a lot.

But on Sunday morning, I walked. In the words of Thich Nhat Hanh, I walked as though my feet were kissing the Earth. No wrestling thoughts; just the gentle stir of a breeze, the sweet, sweet smells of spring, and the soft quiet of morning. A pause here and there. A peek over a railing and down into the water flowing by, which I couldn’t quite hear since the snowmelt in the mountains hasn’t happened yet. Passed by a furniture store that I’ve driven by for years to finally notice its name: Joyful Furniture. Joyful Furniture! Amazing.

And it brought me to this. This workshop was an honor. An honor to learn with new eyes how to see what people sometimes can’t say verbally yet shout through their bodies. An honor to sit with another’s joy and sadness and to taste curiosity and sweetness. To see strength, surrender, and innate wisdom. To become aligned with what is. Whatever it is. Whenever it is.

And, as one woman put it, to trust the dive.

Here are some photo highlights of the day.

De assisting a 3rd trimester momma in Upavista Konasana.

I love this picture.

Demonstration of Vrksasana in the 3rd trimester, using the wall for balance and opening in both the chest and hips.

Postpartum demonstration, showing how to twist in Jathara Parivartanasana with bolsters.

An explosion of heart! Can’t you just feel it? Upavista Konasana partner work.

Beginning to quiet down for closing the workshop.

Peaceful momma, peaceful baby.

To see the entire gallery of photos from the intensive, please click here or go to the Photos page.

Related posts:

1. A little setback.
2. A day for laughing.
3. Deliciousness.

It’s been immensely interesting to me that each day of the intensive has had a different vibe to it. On the first, we were all a little nervous, getting to know each other’s stories, and feeling expectant (yep, a word not just for the moms-to-be…) about the workshop.

The second, well, the second I didn’t get to stay for very long (more about that here), and today? Today was a day for laughing.

After our morning meditation (which for some reason was extremely challenging for me today – I was the master of fidgeting. Ugh.), Marcia Solomon (Yoga Workshop teacher and Sanskrit scholar) led us through the correct pronunciation of asanas. It was beautiful and familiar but difficult all at once. It was, as Marcia described, “vinyasa for the tongue.”

After our Sanskrit lesson, De led us through an asana practice for the second trimester.

And then there was more laughing.

Mostly because of our guest speakers, doula presenters Karena Lindell and Lee Macik, but also because of this speaker, Cynthia Morris, certified Life Coach.

There was a difficult point during today, however. Linda Sparrowe, editor-in-chief of Natural Solutions magazine, talked about grief and depression around losing a baby. I have to be honest, while today was very fulfilling and enlivening, this particular topic caused me to pause. For a couple of hours, actually. This, oh this, reached down deep inside to touch a very tender part of me. A tucked away part. A not forgotten part. Our baby who wasn’t. And even though we have three beautiful boys, it was powerful to remember that time and know that compassion lies in the ability to surrender to the process of letting go, which Linda so delicately confirmed is very different than giving up.

This is where yoga is a refuge. A place where emotions can pass through us and we can be soft and open as we are ready and as we feel safe.

I’m so thankful for this place. And I’m so, so very thankful for the ability to laugh and to love and to exhale joy.

And for the opportunity to hold ourselves as tenderly as we hold our babies.

Related posts:

1. Walk as though your feet are kissing the Earth.
2. Deliciousness.
3. A little setback.

For many of us, there is a daily shift in our ability to be and remain open: to be stretched out – mind, body, and spirit. Sometimes this shift is huge, sometimes its so small that we can barely feel a tremor. But we’re constantly being called to it. I am both inspired and brought to my knees by those of you out there who can remain so undeniably honest in that shift and welcome it. I truly strive to be more like you, and I’d like to say that I welcome it but…it’s also kind of scary, don’t you think, because some days are easier than others and some challenges are hard. To remain true to the knowledge that life is this amazing teacher is, well, everything. In the face of those challenges, the author of the blog says, “Nothing else changes from the foundation of who we are.”

Powerful.

“Every time I begin to sink, I remind myself that I’m a rockstar.”

Very powerful.

“And rockstars know that life is beautiful.”

What else could I possibly add?

Well, I will add this: When you’re thinking that you have less, you actually have more. More of what you might ask?

Yep, you might ask that. Why don’t you?

Related posts:

1. Sun Salute Challenge: Day 3
2. Powerful Panties, Part Deux.
3. Yes or nope.