September is here. The leaves are actually turning colors on our trees. It's chilly in the evenings and mornings. It's been a good summer. A great one. I have melted down and then recharged myself back up. No Legos were harmed this morning. None will be harmed tomorrow.
 |
| Navigating the seas aboard the SS Thompson on a rainy day. |
 |
| Um. Not really sure what Ian's doing here... |
Funny story. I walked up the stairs to my yoga class this afternoon, and the teacher gave me a curious look.
"Are you here for a yoga class?"
Well yes, in fact I was.
"We don't have a class today, do we?"
The teacher smiled and said, "Well, you can practice with me. I'm just going over some ideas for a new fall class. You can be my guinea pig."
Thank goodness she was willing to let me stay, because otherwise I'd have been walking the streets of TBurg with a yoga mat strapped across my back for the next hour and fifteen minutes. No way in hell I was going back home after I'd narrowly
escaped gotten out of the house for a non-standard midweek class. Not that we had a bad day or anything. Ian napped, Will napped, I napped. It was glorious. I just really needed some yoga.
As we were winding down, I explained to my teacher how the pose we were doing had been hurting me lately. Not screaming in agony, but strained and painful. She checked out my alignment. She made a small adjustment, gave me a blanket for support. She asked how it felt.
"Okay, now breathe," she said.
I breathed. In or out, I can't remember. It helped a little.
"I think that for you, it's not a matter of whether you know enough to get into the pose," she added. "It's that you need to not work so hard at it."
Oh. Now
that's hard. Little did she know that this has heretofore been my mantra in life. TRY HARD. WORK HARD. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes I get lucky. But this is why I come to yoga.
"I'll try that," I said, coming out of the pose.
This past year, I tried not trying so hard. I started with making some women friends. Mothers like me and mothers not like me at all. Ever since high school I've been very wary of other women. I've always felt more at ease, more myself around guys. I've always felt not "girly enough" to be a girl.
Making friends started with participating. I had to opt in to socialize, even when I didn't feel like it. Wait -- so, okay, I did work at it a little bit. But it was the start of feeling and being more connected, and not to isolated.
So here's to Mom's Night Out (MNO). May the return of fall (and winter cabin fever) bring many more:
Whoever said "it takes a village"
Wasn't from my village,
Without a central square or meeting place.
We would meet in the backrooms of the library
Or the bar.
Or by the swings in the park.
You'd bring a blanket, I'd have a ball and she'd have always the healthiest snacks.
So we'd order another round but never should.
And someone would mention a toy, a stroller.
Something used and now unwelcome in their home,
And we would make a match.
And complain that it was way too late.
The next day we'd arrive puffy-eyed at the coffee shop,
Slipping pastries into children's mouths to drink our coffee in peace.
(Or was that me?)
We would worry if we didn't hear or see you for a while.
Or bring food if you had a newborn and a toddler and no appetite.
In the backrooms or the bars or the yards of our village.
