Today at hot yoga, in the final pose of the ninety minute class – I did it! I grabbed my knee. Just about everyone around me, day after day, week after week, grabs their knee in the final spinal twist. Everyone just about, but me. I wasn’t too concerned; my body wasn’t ready and just couldn’t make that final part happen. Frankly, my arm just wasn’t long enough. For nearly two years I kept showing up to practice, trying to twist and contort. The practice paid off.
Yesterday, I left a public place with one of my children kicking and screaming – I didn’t swear! I brought my kids bowling as a reward for working out their sibling frustrations in a kinder manner for a whole week. They had demonstrated that practicing different ways of communicating other than hitting had its positive results.
Into our second game, around the fifth frame, they hit each other. Game Over. Cute bowling shoes off – we were outta there. I’m pretty sure after seeing me “practice what I preach” and hauling their asses out of there, (oops! 50 cents into each piggy bank) they won’t be hitting each other again – at least not at a bowling alley.
Practicing yoga is so much easier at times than being a parent. It’s just me – my body, my mind and my spirit connecting in a hot room. But in the real world it’s two other beings contorting and twisting into their own identity, bumping up against each other and their parents.
That evening at the dinner table the elder sibling confessed that she was the one who threw the first punch. She actually confessed at the bowling alley it was just hard to hear her over the screaming completion as we exited the premises. We praised her for coming forward. Talked about how much we valued the truth.
I’d like to think we provided the space for her to practice integrity.
Grabbing my knee today, toe stand tomorrow. $1 today, nothing tomorrow. Oh, wait, they won’t read this I can keep the $1. Whew.
by J.G. McGlothern