One of the things she posted today made me tear up, for she reminded me of what it was like for me when my kids were smaller than they are now, and how hard it was for me at times to feel I had a community of like-minded individuals to draw support or advice from, or just to have a shoulder to cry on.
We all need community. For me, finding Zen in my yoga practice has not only been an adeventure of finding a better understanding of Self (capital "S" self, or Higher Self, as well as little "s" self, or ego) but also a great opportunity to find my Tribe, a group of like-minded people who I am lucky enough to gather with weekly and share our stories about life, the hard times as well as the good ones.
Throughout my teacher training my fellow students and I supported each other as a community as we (individually) dealt with the loss of a pregnancy, the grieving for a spouse who had passed away, the loss of a job, recovery from cancer, and the stresses of marriage and grown children setting out on their own, as well as myriad other life events. We also celebrated together, as we experienced an engagement, the launching of a new business, and multiple other moments of celebration, large and small.
One thing that we learn from yoga philosophy is that we are never alone because each of us is divinely connected. And in those dark moments, when we feel our most alone human-ness, we learn to remember that "alone" does not have to be scary, because we are always supported and cradled by Source, or our Divine nature.
We learn that other people around us also reflect our true natures back to us, in a philosophy we call "mirroring." We are taught that we cannot hate a quality in another person that we do not possess ourselves; likewise we cannot LOVE a quality in another person which we do not ourselves possess.
My sister wrote today in her blog:
"They are good kids but often they reflect back at me the impatient, loud, angry person that I must be like a lot of the time. We are pretty good at working up a vicious cycle where they don’t listen, I get frustrated and start yelling, and someone ends up crying. (It could be me).
So do I feel like a failure as a mom? Sometimes. Not usually.
Sure, there are things that I wished I did better and I am working on becoming a more patient parent (“We’re not doing that now” spoken in a sing-song voice is sort of a joke between me and my sister, who’s son was in Waldorf preschool. A joke because I wish I could be as patient as a Waldorf teacher and that my kids would listen the first time to such a quiet simple instruction).
Someday I’ll figure it out. Probably not in this lifetime.
I am growing in leaps and bounds along with these two boys of mine. I find inspiration where I can. Try to remember that I am doing the best I can with what I’ve got."
I think that one of the greatest (and perhaps hardest to accept) gifts of parenting, is that it gives us an opportunity to be reflected, or mirrored, in a very real way. We often see our own behavior mirrored as mothers/fathers, by our children as they grow older, and sometimes we don't like what we see. The gift in this is that it allows us an opportunity to look at ourselves more closely and see how we might change our behavior to better reflect the person we would like to be, and hopefully in that change we can inspire some of those changes in our children as well.
The gift of yoga-- as well as mothering-- for me, has been the opportunity for growth. Even in my darkest and scariest times as a mother, those times where I may have wished that I had not chosen this path (because it was too challenging & scary, because the toddler was pushing my buttons, or I simply did not think I was up for the challenge of rearing brand new human beings) some part of me was aware that in those dark & scary times there were always new opportunities for me to learn more about myself, and to choose expansion and growth over stagnation and fear.
In our practice of yoga we practice accepting and growing with challenges, to not fear them or push them away. This practice we call Santosa. In the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Santosa is defined as: "having a sense of modesty and the feeling of being content with what we have.To be at peace within comes from fostering contentment with one's life, even while experiencing its challenges. When we accept that life is a process for growth all of the circumstances and experiences we create for ourselves become valid teachers and vehicles for expressing our highest nature. Accepting that there is a purpose for everything - yoga calls it karma – we can cultivate contentment and compassion, for ourselves and for others. Santosa means being happy with what we have rather than being unhappy about what we don't have. " (Thanks to Expressions of Spirit for the quote.)
One of my teachers always likes to say "You can do Hard Stuff." She learned this phrase from her mother, appropriately enough. And it applies to yoga asana practice as well as to facing life's challenges. I remind myself of this phrase daily, whenever I run into challenges (large and small) which make me want to run the other way and hide.
My sister also writes about the idea of "perfect mom syndrome," which she admits she still suffers from sometimes even though she reminds herself that she is "supposed to be" okay with being a "good-enough mom." Do we not all struggle with the idea that we are "supposed to be" perfect in all that we do? I recently ordered the book The Gifts of Imperfection, by Brene Brown. I can't wait to read it! The subtitle of the book is Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are.
I think we could all use a little bit of that advice.
I think that one of the greatest (and perhaps hardest to accept) gifts of parenting, is that it gives us an opportunity to be reflected, or mirrored, in a very real way. We often see our own behavior mirrored as mothers/fathers, by our children as they grow older, and sometimes we don't like what we see. The gift in this is that it allows us an opportunity to look at ourselves more closely and see how we might change our behavior to better reflect the person we would like to be, and hopefully in that change we can inspire some of those changes in our children as well.
The gift of yoga-- as well as mothering-- for me, has been the opportunity for growth. Even in my darkest and scariest times as a mother, those times where I may have wished that I had not chosen this path (because it was too challenging & scary, because the toddler was pushing my buttons, or I simply did not think I was up for the challenge of rearing brand new human beings) some part of me was aware that in those dark & scary times there were always new opportunities for me to learn more about myself, and to choose expansion and growth over stagnation and fear.
In our practice of yoga we practice accepting and growing with challenges, to not fear them or push them away. This practice we call Santosa. In the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Santosa is defined as: "having a sense of modesty and the feeling of being content with what we have.To be at peace within comes from fostering contentment with one's life, even while experiencing its challenges. When we accept that life is a process for growth all of the circumstances and experiences we create for ourselves become valid teachers and vehicles for expressing our highest nature. Accepting that there is a purpose for everything - yoga calls it karma – we can cultivate contentment and compassion, for ourselves and for others. Santosa means being happy with what we have rather than being unhappy about what we don't have. " (Thanks to Expressions of Spirit for the quote.)
One of my teachers always likes to say "You can do Hard Stuff." She learned this phrase from her mother, appropriately enough. And it applies to yoga asana practice as well as to facing life's challenges. I remind myself of this phrase daily, whenever I run into challenges (large and small) which make me want to run the other way and hide.
My sister also writes about the idea of "perfect mom syndrome," which she admits she still suffers from sometimes even though she reminds herself that she is "supposed to be" okay with being a "good-enough mom." Do we not all struggle with the idea that we are "supposed to be" perfect in all that we do? I recently ordered the book The Gifts of Imperfection, by Brene Brown. I can't wait to read it! The subtitle of the book is Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are.
I think we could all use a little bit of that advice.
No comments:
Post a Comment