A year ago, my mom and I started taking a weekly yoga class. It's been great - at first it was just a way to get some exercise and hang out, but I have to say that after a year, it's turned into something else as well.
There's something about spending an intense 90 minutes focusing solely on your body and getting it to do things you didn't think possible. Our teacher is always saying that so much of our resistance is just our mind not allowing us to take risks - I think that both of us, although we do spend a great deal of time groaning and giggling, have stopped telling her, "There's no way I can do that..." She also encourages us to make the pose work for us - meaning that as long as the alignment and positioning are right, it's okay if you can't entirely grab your big toe or get your heel on the ground.
We've progressed, too! My lovely mother, in particular, spent a great deal of time receiving some hands-on encouragement from Paulette - but last night? Not so much! She actually asked me to demonstrate a pose AND referred to us as, "Experienced Yogis!"
It's funny - I've been so grouchy and tired all week, but after our class last night, my mood is totally improved. That 90 minutes a week to only think about yourself is seriously restorative. Good for the body and the mind. I can feel my muscles more acutely than I did yesterday, and I find myself "leading with my heart" as I walk around the classroom during the day. (again, the alignment).
I'm grateful that I have this time each week - time to hang out with my mom doing something kind of unique, time to have all to myself....it's just lovely.
Granted it's all taking place in the wrestling room of my dear old alma mater, Cheltenham High School, but even that's fine. I can remember our "___ of steel" workouts in the there during gym class - the TV is still hanging in the corner...and the walls are covered with plaques honoring former classmates' achievements. So I guess in some ways it helps me reconnect with my inner teenager?
Who knows....
Anyway...I forgot my point. Except that I encourage parents everywhere to find even a small sad little 90 minutes a week where you can get away and be more of yourself.