It’s hard to say who was more excited for “Cousin’s Camp” this year – my kids or me.  By the way, Cousin’s Camp is the week when my parents put on their camp-counselor hats and host all of their grandchildren in New Hampshire.  It is truly a highlight of the year for my children.  For me, it’s a rare and wonderful thing to have a stretch of time like this to be on my own at home.  So, I woke up Monday morning eagerly anticipating the start of a quiet, glacially-paced week.  Despite the risk of preconceived notions, I let my imagination run wild.  I imagined long, spa-like days filled with meditative walks with the dogs, yoga every day, uninterrupted hours writing, lazy afternoons curled up with a novel, maybe even a pedicure!  These four and a half days would be focused and peaceful.  They would be rejuvenating and restorative so that I could hit the ground running when we picked the kids up on Saturday.  I couldn’t wait!

 

So I sprang out of bed Monday morning and hit the town bike path with my dog.  And for the entire three-mile walk, my mind chattered and hopped.  Once home, I sat down to read my Bible and journal as I do most mornings and my mind was like a monkey.  I had to re-read verses four times to get them to sink in.  I didn’t even try to journal.  I moved onto some household chores, but found this was no more focused.  I was hopping back and forth from job to job like a toddler with ADHD.  I was making lists.  I was fussing with the dog who did not need or want to be fussed with.  My mind continued to “blah blah BLAH” and my body was fidgety.  It’s almost like I had a hectic-hangover.  Like I hadn’t switched gears from life with kids to life with just me, so I was making up stuff to worry about and stuff to do.  I felt about as far from peaceful and focused as could be.

 

As I paced around the house, I had a sense of déjà vu.  I realized that this wasn’t that different from the way I feel on those unfortunate days when I actually make it to a yoga class only to have trouble settling into my practice.  When we arrive at a yoga class (or unroll our mat at home), we are literally stepping out of the swirl of life.  Often, this step is a big one!  Perhaps we’ve been running errands somewhat frantically because we’re not quite sure we’re going to make it through out list in the hour we have before class.  Maybe we’ve gotten stuck in traffic on the way to the studio and we feel frazzled and helpless.  Or maybe we arrive feeling harried and irritable because our babysitter was late.  My point is simply that life keeps happening (sometimes fast and furiously) even as we’re headed for a relished “time out” on our yoga mats.  And it can be really, really hard to shift gears.

 

This was exactly what I was going through!  Only I was discovering that the step from regular life to life sans kids is a real doozy!  The good news was that, thanks to my yoga, I knew how to do this.  Certainly, I could navigate this transition the same way I transition from daily life to yoga.  Easier said than done.  But, as I’ve proven to myself in many, many yoga classes, not at all impossible.

 

It’s not the things that happen on the way to yoga class that are the issue.  They are things we’d typically handle without a second thought.  But, somehow, because we’re headed into a time of not doing, a time of reflection, a time of mental stillness, the effects of these things can linger.  Just because the racket and ruckus of life quiet down doesn’t mean we automatically do too.  In fact, as I was finding on my first child-free morning of the week, the lingering effects of life’s pace and stresses can actually intensify when things suddenly slow down.  Somehow, life echoes inside us more loudly when we are (or are trying to be) quiet. 

 

In a yoga class when I’m having a hard time settling, it’s simply a matter of try and try again.  When thoughts, worries or emotions crop up, I’ve learned to acknowledge them and then let them go.  I take a deep breath, remind myself that I’m there to move and to breathe, and I return my focus to the asana at hand.  It’s not uncommon for me to have to do this over and over again throughout the opening sun salutations.  In fact, I’ve come to understand that these are more than just physical warm-ups for me.  They are a time of mental and emotional quieting that prepares me to sink more deeply into the practice.  Sure, there are days when mental peace and quiet never come.  But, honestly, these days are few and far between.  Typically, the steady breathing and strenuous movement of my asana practice does the trick.

 

Because of the dramatic nature of my shift earlier this week, I felt literally bombarded by inner-noise and unrest.  The noise and mental clutter was deafening and distracting.  But it was of my own creation.  With the same gentle determination that I bring to my yoga mat, I deliberately took a deep breath and reminded myself that I wanted to savor this time.  I returned my focus from my harried, crunched feelings to the reality of the spacious week ahead.  I’ll admit, I had to do this over and over again that first day and even throughout the week.  But I wasn’t bothered by that.  After all, just as is the case on my yoga mat, it was a just a matter of try and try again.

 

In the end, it’s been a great week.  I’ve enjoyed some quiet me-time.  I’ve enjoyed times filled with laughter and friendship.  And I’ve enjoyed some great dates with my husband.  Most importantly, because I was finally able to shift gears, I feel ready to hit the ground running tomorrow morning when I wake up bombarded by “Welcome to the lake!” hugs from my children and their cousins.

 

Namaste,