Things my children are never saying or thinking:
Wow, I sound so needy, so I’m not gonna ask.
This might sound dumb, but….
I am so excited, but don’t want to seem overly excited, so I’m gonna reign it in.
Will that {insert delicious food item} have me exceed my daily calorie limit?
I’m exhausted, but I can keep going.
There is no point in asking for what I want.
I hate doing this, but fine, I’ll do it anyway without letting anyone know I really hate this.
I’m dumb.
I’m not strong at all.
I don’t deserve exactly what I want in this exact moment.
Crying is only for weak people.
Being outdoors is lame.
I totally hate exercise, especially running/jumping/climbing.
I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
I look so stupid when I dance.
Hugging is weird and totally invades in my personal space.
Sorry, we don’t have time for that.
Hurry!
I could go on and on, but the point is that more and more, each day, my children are true teachers.
How many of the above thoughts have you had this week? Or today?
Where did all this personal editing and shame come from? Okay, so there are actually many answers to that question, but it’s time for a rewind. For us to be reminded.
Who were you at three or four?
When I hear my four year old son negotiating for, yet, another cookie, instead of getting frustrated with him, I try to enjoy, and respect, that he has the gusto to just freakin’ go for it. He has the innocence not to read for partially hydrogenated whatever and eat what strikes him.
When I’m rushing inside, from car to house, with my one year old daughter in my arms and I see her look up wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at the trees moving in the sea breeze, I’m reminded to breathe deep, slow the eff down and appreciate what’s around me. The simple most amazing treasures come through fresh eyes.
When my daughter is tired, she sleeps. When she desires play, she dumps out the toy basket, and when she isn’t hungry anymore, you can’t force her to take another bite.
My son? He talks 99 percent of the day and is entirely shameless. He is never thinking, I’m talking too much. I should shut up. Did that sound dumb? I am totally dominating this conversation.
He loves himself, his choices, his observations and is proud of being just the way he is.
As a yoga teacher, I can’t help but think most kids are yoga.
Fluctuations of the mind?
Nada.
Connection with the Divine?
Hourly.
Living in the present?
Always.
Honest, non-harming, absolute truth in thought, word and deed, happiness and satisfaction?
Check, check, check.
I know so much of this is lost as we age.
In what tiny way can we rewind today?
Find that inner four year old. Eat the extra cookie, dance haphazardly, make up a song about your day, or go to bed as soon as you’re tired.
I swear, not only will I appreciate my children as teachers, helping me to rewind and reboot daily, but also I will do my best as Mama to help them retain some of those qualities as the years roll on.
Carissa invites students to be honest with themselves and interpret the sensations in the body and breath as whispered instructions (sometimes shouts!) for how to live the best life. Carissa leads group classes and workshops, trains new yoga teachers, and owns Breathing Room Yoga in South Portland Maine. But outside of the studio, you might find Carissa having dance parties with her two small children, singing loudly in the car, practicing yoga on her kitchen floor, perusing the farmer’s market, or standing atop a mountain, embracing Maine’s natural beauty with her husband at her side. Lately, when she practices, she can feel & hear nothing but a single word: grateful. Find her at tumblr.
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Editor: Olga Feingold
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