The first time I ever felt the surreal butterfly flutter of a child in my womb I was in a yoga class, ironically in child's pose. Lily spun her tiny body against me and I started laughing uncontrollably, my forehead pressed to the mat and my growing belly tucked between my knees. Luckily, the class was full of friends and so I was able to announce to them what had me in such a joyous fit. The room turned into a tiny celebration for the child growing inside me, everyone in the room knowing how long I had hoped for a baby and stirred by the beauty of this little person saying hello in the only way she could.
Despite that warm fuzzy that memory gives me for yoga I've only taken a dozen (or so) classes in my life. Time, money, teachers who are there to hurt you... all of these have conspired to make regular yoga a challenge for me. So when my friend Lisa emailed me a while back about putting together a yoga class for mothers with a discussion period at the end, I was hooked, even after she asked me to run the discussion bit.
After today I know a few new things about the moms I hang out with at playgroup and knitting:
Lisa is an amazing teacher. I could take her class every single day of the week (if not for, you know, time and money).
Partner yoga is awesome and despite the giggles as we all stepped into straps together, nobody seemed to feel unsafe or weird. Just really awesome stretches.
Some of us are being consumed by fear.
Some of us are afraid we don't worry enough.
One of our cozy group was a widely known and successful artist.
You'd never suspect it from her, but one of the moms went to college to study molecular biology.
Another was an anthropologist (a field of study that has me all enchanted lately).
All of us were in deep need of just this.
All of this I learned from asking this question: What was your passion before kids and how are you honoring that in your life now?
How 'bout you? If you're a parent, can you answer that question? If you're not, have you been derailed from your passions?