Yogi Bear? Yogurt? OH! Yoga!

With the invitation from a friend to give a month of yoga a try , I found myself on a borrowed mat in a gentle class. A room full of thin, limber, stretchable, serene people isn't really a place I've ever thought was a good fit for a small, roundish lady who has a scorching case of undiagnosed ADHD. Stillness, quiet and focus are not my strengths, and I believe that recognizing and respecting your limitations is an important quality in life. Flexibility is surprisingly mine, but I look like a blobular glob when I stretch my limbs into unnatural poses. I've been to one or two classes before, but my attendance was more socially driven than truly inspired.

The good news is that I am already the owner of an impressive yoga-pant collection.  When the sundresses are stored for the season, yoga pants become my uniform for the bleary months that you don't exactly want the breeze blowing up your skirt.  How could I resist the urge to actually put them to use? Who knows?  Maybe after a month of it, I might appear to actually belong in them. 

So, there I was, focusing. Focusing on the fact that my mat was not my favorite color of pink, on what ZK might actually stand for,  whether the class would last an hour or was it longer and that I was the only person in class that actually wore yoga pants.  Maybe the teacher had some on, but my classmates were so cool they just wore sweats, shorts or (my personal favorite) polka-dot leggings. So....maybe true yogis don't need the pants.

Focus, Crys. Focus.  ON YOGA!

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out.  Breath in, hold it, breath out.  My breaths didn't match the instruction.  Trying to do it for as many seconds as suggested really confused me.  For a while, I was doing a breathing cycle opposite of the one instructed.  Trying to get my breaths in sync resulted in a little hyperventilation and a little dizziness.

Next came poses and some cool hand exercises with a ball.  That was fun, and I was enjoying myself.  I made some mental notes to incorporate some of the best ball-hand massages into my doula techniques and then came my favorite part of yoga:  Laying down on the mat!  Stretches, relaxing and that cool thing they do to the back of your neck.  Finally, a nap.  Just like in Bradley birth class, yoga ends with a totally relaxed nappy-nap.  Sweet mother of sleep, did I enjoy just laying there!  Instructed to do so, I felt zero guilt and was surprised to find my mind relaxed and unfocused.  Yes, unfocused must be the key.  I had been trying too hard to focus on peace, on zen, on relaxing, when the key was to just relax

I think I'll go back on Tuesday and relax.  

He got it.

Our VBS theme this week was 'Groovin' with Jesus: Peace, Love and Joy'. Right up my glitter-hippy alley, yes?  Yes.  I'm enjoying it.

Today, we learned the 'Love your neighbor as yourself' verse during bible story time.  I'm not much of a memorizer, but I do remember key teachings and this has always been one of my favorites. Yesterday, we'd made tie-dyed pillow cases during craft time.  As a group leader, I went ahead and made myself one. Resisting tye-dyed anything is futile, so I just grabbed a bottle of pink and dove into the fun with the kids.  Today, we received them to take home and wash, in preparation for a good night's sleep and happy hippy dreams.

A little girl showed up in my group today who'd not been there the previous day. As I passed out my the multi-colored cloth, still banded and in Zip-locks for their parents to deal with  later, her little face fell when she realized she wasn't getting one.  It took a lot of selflessness for me to turn mine over, but in my almost 43 years, I've managed to improve in that area.  She went home with mine.

Meeting up with Caden a few minutes later, he asked where my pillow case was, as he was planning for us to both sleep on them tonight.  After explaining, his response was 'WHY did you do THAT?!'  He was a little upset.  Maybe he was hoping I'd give it to him so he could have a matched set?  Maybe he just didn't understand the relinquishing of a tie-dyed item.  That never happens.

Reminding him of our bible story, I told him that if my little boy was at a vacation bible school, and was sad about not doing a craft the day before, I'd sure want some mommy to love him as they love themselves, and give him theirs. Even though I really liked the craft, I did unto that little girl's mommy as I'd want someone to do for me. So, she went home with my pillow case.

A few seconds later...he handed me his pillow case, saying he wanted me to have it.

Next Day Update:  After craft time today, the little girl gave me her paper-plate tambourine and a huge hug.  Apparently, she gets it, too. Being in the presence of a child is a gift (most of the time ;)  )

A sick boy, but just for a while.

"Mommy!  My belly feels....."  and so it begins.  An endless day of cleaning messes that don't quite make it to the proper receptacles.  Laundry and carpet cleaning and floor scrubbing, then more of the same have swallowed the majority of my day.  Now, as I write, he's resting and I'm praying that an ounce of ginger ale stays down.

I'm tempted to wallow in the misery that is mine on this day gone so not the way I'd planned.  But I've trained my brain to find the joy, and it's a groovy habit to make.  My son's body,mind and soul function at optimum levels most of the time.  I don't have to worry about losing him, and I won't be cleaning his messes forever.  Some parents aren't as lucky; I'm prompted to pray for them.  They suffer as much if not more than their children. As he begs for food that I know I can't give him because I don't want to rock the gastrointestinal boat, I am at the same time sad that I have to deny him, but thankful that I have food available.  Some parents watch their children die begging for food they cannot provide, and wrap their starving bodies in rags that they don't have the luxury of washing.

As my washing machine hums, my carpet cleaner rests, my mop airs itself outside and my son watches movies and snuggles on a clean couch in a warm, comfortable house, my joy explodes.  In the midst of the nasty belly bug, I am more thankful than most other days.

Do you know how to find your joy?  It's a choice.  I suggest you choose it.  Happiness can be fleeting, and dependent upon circumstance.  Joy?  it's always yours, always there.  You just have to train yourself to find it.  Think this post is a bit Pollyanna-ish?  I encourage you to read through my other posts.  You'll find that my life is far from perfect, and has survived and thrived through some pretty dark places.

Find your joy!!