Getting My Zen On…(or Mission Impossible)

So I posted something on my Facebook page about my challenges in yoga. Apparently, I am not the only one who has issues achieving Namaste.

With my chaotic life I thought it would be good for me to take a couple hours a week to try and do something for myself. And what better way than trying to relax while contorting one’s body into painful and abnormal positions and taking deep cleansing breaths without hyperventilating.

Yep, it’s all that and a bag of chips.

In all honesty, I love the concept of yoga. Teaching oneself to be present in the moment, be one with your body, stretching, strengthening, breathing…sounds like a dream.

Unless you are completely uncoordinated, have ADD and the flexibility of a twig.

Which would be me. I’ve been taking for almost six months now – from a class at my church and a class composed of moms from my son’s school. If there was ever a crew that needed some zen – we would be it.


(My mini-yogis in training)

Breathing – most natural thing in the world, right? Well, not so much. Apparently, I do it wrong. And when I try to do it the right way in yoga, my chest hurts and I get dizzy. And I’m not about to be the only one who asks the teacher for tips on how to breathe. I mean really, I have to have some self respect.

And for some reason, no matter where I start on the mat, by the end of each exercise or pose, I have somehow wandered completely off the mat and am in someone else’s space…which in yoga, personal space is kinda a big deal. I mean no one wants someone’s downward dog in your face. Have no idea why I cannot stay on the mat. It’s the strangest phenomenon outside of my post-baby shrunken breasts.

Clear your head. I wish someone would teach a class on this (hmmm, I guess that is what yoga is for) – but it is beyond impossible for me to do so. The more I try to clear my head the more I obsess. (“Okay, I’m trying to clear my mind, so what does that mean? Focus on my breathing…Holy Cow, I need a pedicure. I hope no one is looking at my feet. I think we are out of milk…oh wait, clear my head. Oh no, I hope I don’t pass gas in this class, crap, what do I do? Pretend it’s not me? Or make a joke? Hmmm, I don’t know if we are supposed to joke in yoga or not…Okay, really, I don’t know how to make my mind stop….wow, she has a really cute yoga outfit on, I wonder where she got that…okay, that person is way flexible, how does she get her body to do that? Oh man, I am craving Mexican food…wonder if anyone wants to go eat Elote with me afterwards…”).

And so go the voices in my head.

Zen master? I think I have a ways to go. But I am going to buy the cute yoga outfit…I can at least LOOK the part anyway…

Namaste ya’ll.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized by marniefernandez. Bookmark the permalink.

About marniefernandez

Official kid wrangler of four. Step mom, adoptive mom & bio mom. City girl turned country bumpkin. Small town girl next door married to Hollywood sniper/moto-cross/ninja architect. Career girl turned stay-at-home mom with baby on hip. Permanent taxi-cab driver, schedule organizer and professional laundress. (When not chasing kids...) Mommy blogger, columnist, travel writer and consultant. And no, I don't sleep. And yes, I take Prozac. And drink wine from sippy cups.

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