This is an article that I orginally wrote for The Mother magazine issue 36. This really is a timeless piece whether you are a mother trying to get back on the yoga mat or a person just trying to get on the mat in the first place! If you are mother, father or anyone that has a child in your life then I highly recommend a subscription to The Mother ~ it is truly worth its weight in gold.
Getting Back On The Mat
Pre-pregnancy, I had been teaching yoga for six years. I had at long last discovered a style
of yoga that tantalized every morsel of my body, leaving me to tingle for more. My teaching and personal practice was wildly flourishing. Finally I was at home with my yoga.
Then I became pregnant. Initially nothing in my routine had to change. I was feeling fit and strong – well, between being sick into paper bags and out of car windows. As my bump grew I had to accommodate the physical change. During the late stages of my pregnancy I had to halt doing almost all yoga poses, which was bizarre for me. In times past when I had day-dreamed about my paradisiacal pregnancy and birth, yoga was always an integral component. But my body just couldn’t handle the additional doses of elastin. It just made my body too unstable and hyper-flexible. So I resigned myself to doing only aquatic exercises, although I did manage to perfect a floating tube yogic deep relaxation, which was at the very least entertaining for the other pool users and lifeguards.
After the quick, ecstatic gorgeous birth of my babe I was taken aback by how horrendous my body felt. I was a young yogini in the pink and a lettuce-gobbling lady in a total wreck. I wondered when the Mac truck had steam-rolled me? I was baffled in regards to my physical state, on top of which I was scrambling to cope with all of my new mumsy emotions, too.
Let’s face it, in the early days of mamahood I didn’t even have the opportunity to wash my hair let alone think about doing yoga postures. Breastfeeding on cue, baby-wearing and napping at any squeaks notice took over my time.
Then when my darling was about three months old, I started doing some gentle postures with him. My body felt so tender and raw. I think I spent most of the time weeping on my yoga mat wondering where my old body had disappeared to. I was deeply mourning the loss of the ‘old me’ on so many levels. At the time I couldn’t see past my buxom breastfeeding boobs to really distinguish that this was the ideal kind of yoga for me. I needed to be in that unprocessed space to release the woman I used to be so I could fully embrace the woman I had become. Even though I had advocated for years that the practice of yoga came in all shapes, sizes and forms, if it weren’t for those soul-searching moments I am not sure I would have fully comprehended the meaning.
However, while the Scorpion in me was trying to figure it all out, my physical body remained in the dumps. My emotional and spiritual bodies swayed from pure elation to discouraged, low and overwhelmed. Yoga had been an anchor to me in the past. But its essence had somehow slipped out of my yoni when I gave birth and it felt so elusive.
I recall going to my husband when my sweet boy was about six months old, telling him I didn’t think that I would ever teach yoga again. The yoga world seemed so far away from where I was and that maybe motherhood was giving me a fresh start to turn over a new leaf. He was shocked to hear my revelation, but as always he was supportive. Upon reflection that was just my Ms. Hollywood coming out, creating a bit of drama, or maybe I was slightly hormonal!
It was then around moppet’s first birthday that we made the modest transition to a raw food diet. As a family we had reached a place where it finally felt like I had enough gumption to start forming a personal habit of doing yoga again. Beginning anew was really daunting, but I knew that I didn’t want to feel like something that the cat dragged in everyday. I kept reminding myself that our bodies have cellular memory and soon enough my body would feel sparkly.
Perhaps it was the clarity of eating more raw foods, but I also admitted mentally that I had built a whopping imaginary fortress around how I could do yoga. Pre-baby days I dedicated 1-2 hours yoga per session. The notion that I needed a set amount of time alone made it impossible for me to get back into a yoga groove. The rigidness of doing yoga in a controlled way had completely shoved me off my mat entirely. Once I let go of that fairytale concept my yoga practice unfolded.
My asanas (poses) have been transformed by Zenchai. I try to quietly get on with my session, but for him seeing mummy do something that looks so cool is just temptation to play. Most days my postures are flavoured with him using me as a climbing frame or using my various body positions as a car park or tunnel. I really love sharing my mat with him. I must divulge that having him jump all over me while I do certain poses is extremely therapeutic. It is hard to tell if he consciously knows this, but he often gives me quite delightful adjustments – almost exactly how I would adjust a student in class. His skill is just one of those mystical gifts that only children bring to us. Sometimes having my sweaty mat to myself is an enticing thought, but then I wouldn’t be blessed to have spontaneous moments of ‘yoga hugs’ or ‘yoga kisses’. My most magical memory was when I was in a headstand and he came directly in front of my face to give me the biggest kiss and to stroke my face. You definitely wouldn’t get that kind of wholesome TLC in a group yoga class or by practicing alone.
I can now appreciate how healthy it is for him to see me taking care of myself and how important it is for him to see that mama has a life outside of wiping bums.
As a mother, I have more opportunity to practice the living yoga, which is just as powerful as the mat practice. I can only hope you will be more savvy than me by staying on your mat even when it feels impossible or unrolling your yoga mat for the first time and jumping into the twinkles that await you in the great yoga abyss
With my heart held high and feathers proud, the most humbling yoga experience I have had to date has been becoming a mother.
