the (real) practice

The following was one of the stories I shared during Week 1 of the Chickadee Road :: Studio Sessions last fall. Throughout the Studio Sessions, Kelly and I give some real glimpses into our own practices because as you know, I believe that it is okay to tell the true stories.

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September, 2012

As soon as Kelly and I brainstormed the Studio Sessions and came up with a start date, I began to envision how my first morning of my practice would unfold.

I would get up, get my two-year-old Ellie ready for school, Jon would take her, and then I would change into my yoga clothes and head out to my studio ready to spend about 30 minutes doing yoga. Then I would tuck into the couch and the words would just drip out of me as I would write a morning poem. And it would unfold like this each day because we were creating space for me to reconnect to the yogi within and the poet who longs to write more words each day. Reconnecting to the person I missed when every morning was filled with taking care of a little one with not much time for me.

But then Ellie woke up in such a bad mood. She wouldn't eat. She didn't want to get dressed. She was literally weeping in her bowl of oatmeal. I ended up letting her wear her pajama top to school. She cried. A lot. And then Jon bookended the experience by being in a really bad mood too and losing his patience several times. I kept breathing and focusing on what needed to happen to get them out the door so that Jon wouldn't be late to work.

When they left, I stood in the middle of our suddenly very quiet kitchen thinking that there was no way this exhausted in need of a shower to wake up and some food in her belly mama was going to head straight to her studio for poetry and yoga.

So I made breakfast and then showered and tweaked the day a bit. I let go of my vision and instead just committed to breathing and writing a few words.

When I made it to my studio, I lit a candle and then went to grab my yoga mat. It was no where to be found. Deep breath. I let it go and just got onto the floor into child's pose because my body was longing for it. 

Until I got into child's pose and found myself totally uncomfortable. 

The mind chatter was getting louder, but I pushed myself to treat myself as though I was my own student. Gently reminding my body how to stretch and how to move to get comfortable and reconnect with my breath.

Yes.

I eventually eased into child's pose and stayed there until I began to melt into the carpet.

Yes. This.

Then I chanted and sat in the quiet for a few minutes.

I ended the practice by letting my poet self write a few notes as I drank tea and ate a piece of dark chocolate.

It wasn't ideal. It didn't look like the world of the yoginis and writers I see online (or make up in my own head). But it was my practice. It was what I needed. And it was a beginning. A first day. 

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The Studio Sessions begin Monday! Join Kelly Barton and me for the Chickadee Road :: Studio Sessions, a four-week adventure into creative practices with a community of kindred spirits.

The premise of the sessions is that you choose a creative practice, from cooking to art journaling to yoga to writing (the possibilites are endless really). Then each day we send you little "lessons" and stories via email while you also you gather with like-minded souls for support, encouragement, and community.

Throughout the four weeks Kelly and I share glimpses into our studios and practices, a few tools we use each day, and other really good things. There will also be two live video chats (available by recording for those who can't be there) where we'll share stories and answer questions.

We'd love to have you join the incredible group of kindreds already coming along. This is really going to be good!  

Find out more and register here. And feel free to send over any questions.