Taking a Motherf-ing Rest

If you are a mama who relaxes in yoga, I envy you. As much as I love it, yoga for me is not relaxing. Am I getting into the pose correctly? Is the pose over yet? Wtf is this pose? Those are some of the many thoughts I have while I try to deep breathe and flow. 

I’m a thinker and my brain, even before kids, went a mile a minute. With kids, it often feels at max capacity by 8 am, so while the rest of the class seems to be off in a meditative trance, I’m in warrior pose wondering if I packed my kids their 800 masks for school and if I’m going to be late for pick-up. Now without the sanctuary of a studio, my practice has gone even further to shit. 

Breathe in - don’t forget to put your Instacart order through.
Breathe out - how has it only been 20 minutes!
Breathe in - what should we have for dinner?
Breathe out - is my stomach ever going to not hang over my pants again?
Breathe in - who’s knocking at my door?
Breathe out - *checks phone for Covid number updates.

By the time the class wraps up, I’m halfway to closing my computer and racing to my next task. I rarely savour the much needed Savasana. 

But the truth is, I need that Savasana. Badly. I need it more than the stretch, more than the workout, more than the alone time. I need to close my eyes and not think about a single damn thing for a few minutes so that my brain doesn’t explode.  So today, as the class wrapped up and we moved towards that time where I often pretend to rest, but actually check my emails, I rested. It was hurried and it was chaotic, but it was restful. And if there is anything us mamas need, it’s a fucking good Savasana now and then. 

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