6 Things Yoga Is Teaching Me About Being A Mom

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I was a four-sport athlete in high school and a two-sport athlete in college. Through years of practice and discipline, I became intrinsically wired to believe:

  • more is always better,
  • pain is to be pushed through,
  • and every situation is a competition to be won.

And while these traits served me well on the court, field, or track, they didn’t serve me (or my family) well in motherhood. Right from the start, I found parenting to be hard enough without the additional pressure I put on myself. Making sure all three of my children were dressed, fed, and (semi) well-adjusted was my new national championship and most days I was barely finishing the race.

And while I knew I was doing my best, instead of embracing “B” as a good grade and giving myself grace, the long-engrained, athlete mentality remained. What should have been “good enough,” was, unfortunately, “be better next time” and most days I felt like I should be riding the motherhood “bench,” desperately in need of a sub.

When I started practicing yoga, my athlete mentality toward myself (and my parenting) shifted.

Here are a few things yoga is teaching me about being a mom.

Practice

There’s a reason they call it the “practice” of yoga, and I’ve decided we should also call it the “practice” of motherhood. Because I’m not an expert. I’m guessing you aren’t either. None of us are actually. Your practice is simply the way you do things. And that can evolve and change over time.

In yoga, I’m constantly trying new poses. Some come easily and others don’t. (In fact, some poses might cause you to lose your balance so phenomenally that you fall into the window – true story). But, surprisingly, a pose that’s a challenge this week might suddenly become achievable the next and vice versa.

The same is true in parenting. Each day I’m giving new approaches and strategies a whirl and hoping something works. When it does, I’m elated and I stick it in my tool belt. When it doesn’t, I move on and try something new. Sometimes I come back to a strategy a month later and find it works now because the situation or the kid is different.

All of this reminds me that I don’t need to be an All-American parent. I just need to keep practicing, learning and growing. Like in yoga, the practice is actually the point.

Grace

Never before has exercise been so filled with grace. I’m used to fitness instructors (myself included) pushing me to get one more rep in, to find that exertion point and push through it, to give 110 (not even 100) percent. And since I grew up as an athlete with motivating coaches, I didn’t know any other way.

But yoga is teaching me about grace. Yoga encourages me to listen to my body. If there is pain, I should pay attention to that, figure out what’s causing it, and care for that pain. If my body can’t twist into a human pretzel for eagle’s pose, then I’m encouraged (and praised from the instructor) to make a modification.

In motherhood, the applications for grace are endless. When there’s pain, pay attention to it. Don’t ignore it or push through. Ease back, stop, and care for that pain. Give yourself permission. Give yourself grace.

When you need to modify how you’re doing things – for a day, for a season, or forever – that’s to be commended and celebrated. There’s no pressure to push through and make something happen in a week that’s already over-the-top. Just say, “not today,” and then praise yourself for making the modifications you need.

Breath

I’ve never paid attention to my breathing before. I take it for granted really. In and out all day long without ever noticing (thanks, lungs!). I’m probably only ever aware of my breathing when it’s labored during a strong cardio session or when I’m congested due to illness.

When I do refer to breathing, it’s usually in terms of trying to “catch my breath” in reference to life and motherhood. I run around like a crazy woman seeking a moment to stop and collect myself. To pause and reflect.

Yoga instructors are obsessed with breathing. Deep breaths. Slow breaths. Cleansing breaths. At first, I was all, “Yeah, yeah, get to the workout already.” But now I appreciate the intentional focus on breath. Inhaling and exhaling and letting oxygen work its way throughout my body.

In motherhood, I’m guilty of “holding my breath.” Too often I starting thinking ahead and worrying about what’s to come in the life of my kids, instead of breathing deeply (counting to ten, if needed) and moving through each situation with ease. No need to hyperventilate about every little thing. Slow and steady (breaths) wins the race.

Hold

Yoga classes consist of a series of poses your body holds. The length of those holds varies from class-to-class and instructor-to-instructor and each hold builds strength and endurance. Some poses are easier to hold than others. But, each pose is unique, given its own moment for your body to absorb and has purpose in your practice. You never hold more than one pose at a time, and you’re encouraged to let your body relax into the pose.

In motherhood, I’m usually holding 100 things at once (both figuratively and literally). I’m trying to balance it all, but having a difficult time because there’s simply too much I’m trying to hold. My hands are clenched tight and so is my jaw and neck. Shoulder tension is no joke, people!

I would be better served in parenting if I let some things go. If instead of twenty poses, I aimed for one. Maybe two. What if I simplified what I’m doing and instead of doing many things marginally with half-hearted effort, I did only a few things, but did them with excellence and focus? And like sinking an inch deeper and ten seconds longer into a horse pose, I then came away stronger, more aware and more present.

Flow

Transitioning from pose-to-pose and hold-to-hold in yoga is called flow. Flow is to be smooth and unhurried, guided by your breaths in and out.

Flow is a wonderful thing that I find somewhat elusive in motherhood. Life throws me too many curveballs and speedbumps, notes from the teacher and lost shoes for my parenting to flow smoothly.

And that’s okay except I also tend to get caught up in the big moments, the mountain tops, the destination, that I miss out completely on the journey. Another way I miss the flow.

I’m so focused on the poses and holds – the end goals – and thinking about what’s coming next that I miss the transitions in between. I’m thinking about how my feet should be positioned or what my hands should be doing or what time practice begins or what we’ll eat for supper afterwards that I miss the sweet conversation in the car on the way. I miss the flow.

Because like in yoga, so much of life happens in the transitions. The in between. The little moments between the big moments. And if we rush through them, we miss out.

I want to get through Chaturanga Dandasana and Upward-Facing Dog to get to Downward-Facing Dog (translation: I want to get through two difficult poses to get to an easier one). But there is strength to be found in the first two poses. They might be difficult, but I can learn and grow from them if I won’t rush the flow.

Presence

My yoga instructors encourage me to be fully present when I’m engaged in their classes. For that 45 minutes, I’m breathing, holding, flowing, and giving myself grace. I’m able to shed any unwanted worries or baggage of the day and leave it on the mat. I emerge from class strengthened, focused, and prepared to be more present with my people and my tasks.

I’m challenged to carry this practice into my parenting. Letting go of what needs to be let go. Holding only what is needed. Giving myself grace in the moments and not missing them in the flow. Being strengthened through the process.

That is my hope for you, too.

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