On Practice

There is such an apt comparison between yoga and parenting. (Is that correct grammar? Where am I? What day is it? Have I lost my mind?)

I will try to explain.

I've been thinking of it all weekend. The Ebb and Flow of Parenting, and how to really let go -- no really, let go! LET GO! -- and be IN it. Or rather, become AWARE that I am already so fully in it...I AM it.

What do I mean by yoga and parenting? Or the yoga of parenting? Well, there's the practice piece of it, which is so helpful for so many reasons. There's a Life being lived, and within that Life, there is a practice. A discipline. A method. A technique. There are principles. The yoga practice is a part of the life, a designated time and space for working on spiritual progress, and it's to be done with intention and consciousness and some level of skill. It lends itself to study, possibly mastery. It never ends. It's lifelong. And it is the anchor of the Life. It informs and prepares us for the other things we do with the rest of our time.

For some this practice or discipline is asana, pranayama, and/or meditation. There are other practices of course, all of them with the same goal: Liberation.

I said it was a part of the life, but it is also the life itself. I believe in having a yoga practice, time on the mat, every day if possible. But I also believe that, ultimately, it's taking what I've learned from being on the mat (always sounds like a wrestling term to me) and practicing it in my everyday life.

PRACTICE. Just thinking of yoga this way, and of parenting this way, is a relief.

I can learn a parenting principle, or get advice, but it's what I put into practice that counts. I can treat our experiments with sleeping, scheduling, eating, all the daily rituals, like PRACTICE.

And I can call upon one of my favorite Al-Anon-isms: "PROGRESS, NOT PERFECTION."

It's so easy for me to feel like a failure as a parent -- yes, already! -- but the truth is, like yoga, there are many paths. Many PRACTICES. And they all sort of lead to the same place. Can you really manage unconditional love? Can you bring more love and peace into the world, or will you fall back on your old shit again?

Can you recognize that when you choose to restrict or limit yourself, you have chosen it out of love?

So how did I practice Ebb and Flow this weekend?

I tried to move forward while staying connected in the present. I tried to make it through transitions without falling apart. When I fell apart, I went back to my foundation.

I believe it was Trungpa who said "We should always greet chaos with great enthusiasm." Or something like that; it's a great quote from Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart." I still love that book and have in fact been re-reading it, along with the spiritual parenting books.

It helps also that I'm reviewing John Friend's Anusara Teacher Training Basics DVD; it's FIVE DAYS of Teacher Training, all on DVD, and I'm watching all of it. The baby's watching it with me, or taking it in while he nurses. It's like I was *at* this Teacher Training only yesterday...I love hearing the principles again and again. "Connect with something greater than yourself." "Always check the foundation." "Go back to the basics." Etc. Andrew Bodhi's first words will be "Eka Pada Rajakapotasana," according to his daddy.

So this weekend, as I recover from a nasty cold, I found myself needing to leave the house. Even Bodhi was bored! Yes, already! (I have tried to figure out a way to move him that simulates walking while we're still seated in my La-Z-Boy, but he is too clever for that.) We'd been napping and nursing most of the morning, and daddy was busy in phone meetings all day. It was beautiful outside, and our food supply was dwindling. I'd noticed at one point that Tito, our chihuahua, was shivering. (Imagine, a chihuahua shivering.) So I bundled us into the car with the goal of getting a smoothie at Pacha, then letting the wind carry me. Simple.

And it was! Delicious smoothie in hand, I wandered over to Bark N Purr. Found a cute little red sweater, and went up to the counter.

It occurred to me that I was in the Flow! I hadn't even planned on going to BNP, I just remembered Tito...shivering...

The slacker fellows at Bark N Purr aren't exactly anti-social, but they're not exactly social either. As I stood there, a woman with a giant golden lab came up to the counter. The lab was extra friendly, and was jumping up on the counter. The BNP employee got all excited and gave him a treat. He oohed and aaahed over the dog. Then he turned to me.

I only had the cutest baby in the world, strapped to my chest, face out. Counter boy's face had resumed its sullen glaze. I handed him the tiny red sweater in my hand. "Will that be all, maam?" he asked in a monotone, averting my gaze.

Yes, yes. That was all.

I chose to feel amused rather than hurt that he had practically fallen apart over the dog, but had zero comment or eye contact for a cute baby.

I guess cute animals = cute babies are separate universes in some people's purviews. Not mine.

I'm trying to locate the baby friendly establishments around town. It's a young people place for the most part. At least when I was still babyless I could sort of blend in as an old lady former hipster. I could wear all black at the coffee shop and still not always be the oldest person there. But now, I'm a MOM.

I used to worry that I'd become unhot, or invisible, once I became a mom.

Now could I not only not give the least little damn about that, but I am most excited for people to respond to my child, to think HE is cool.

As my weekend continued, me being in the Flow and all, I went grocery shopping at Sun Harvest, which was a very different experience from Bark N Purr. About the minute I walked in, a woman turned to me and baby Bodhi (again, strapped to my chest, facing out, awake and alert) and exclaimed: "Wow! Your baby is amazing!"

Now THAT'S the kind of recognition I can live with!

It's hard to think that, as a parent, I'm going to probably feel hurt from time to time when people claim not to like babies, or are unresponsive to the incredible cuteness or brilliance or whatever of little Bodhi boy.

I guess it's all part of letting go of judgment, my own and others. But also, as I consider childcare for him, or watch his pediatrician handle him, I can only think how I wish that these people loved him, caring for him as I do. And I think of the Buddist notion of loving all people I meet the way a mother loves her child, and I would like to be able to do this, to love even strangers and creeps with the tenderness I feel for my sweet baby. To be that compassionate and forgiving...wow.

I can practice.