simple yoga and mindfulness solutions for prenatal and new moms
Why a Every Yoga Mama Needs a Secret Savasana
Now that I’m teaching prenatal yoga and mom & baby yoga classes on a regular basis, I’ve been thinking a lot about ways that yoga mamas can take time for themselves when life is so crazy busy. When I had a baby at home, it was a REAL struggle to even take time for basic necessities like healthy meals, time for rest, and, yes, even my yoga practice. I wrote the following piece for my old blog on Yoga Journal when my daughter was not quite a year old. Sometimes I had to be really sneaky to take care of myself—I’m currently scheming my next secret Savasana.
How a Secret Savasana, or Final Resting Pose, Can Save the Day
There were 17 minutes left on my oven timer. Dinner would be ready soon. It was another busy weekend, and there were a thousand more things I wanted to do before I finally went to bed. I handed the baby to my husband and asked for just 17 minutes—to get some writing done. He obliged. So I walked upstairs, closed the door, and opened my laptop. I stared at a blank Word document. My mind was fuzzy. My legs ached.
I glanced down and noticed my yoga mat was still unrolled in the middle of the floor. I didn’t put it away after my practice the day before. It looked so inviting.
I stared at my screen for another moment, and I remembered the words I’ve so frequently told students, friends, and anyone else who looked like they desperately needed a break: “If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t have the energy to take care of anyone or anything else.” I am SO very wise!
So I gave myself permission to let go. I shut my laptop—my work would have to wait. I stood up, walked over to my mat, and laid down on my back, palms facing up. I let my feet flop open like a book. I breathed. I led myself through a guided relaxation where I start with my toes and work my way up to the top of my head, relaxing everything in between. I melted into the floor. See also4 Surprising Things That Help Me Manage Anxiety
In no time at all, I heard the kitchen timer buzz. I wiggled my fingers and my toes before slowly rolling onto my right side. I had fed my spirit, and now it was time to feed my body. I slowly walked downstairs where my husband was busily putting dishes out onto the table. “Did you get anything done?” he asked. “Oh yes,” I said with a smile. “It was the most productive 17 minutes I’ve had all day.” And I didn’t feel guilty at all, because it was true.