Staying Connected

There's No Place Like Om

You've probably heard it sung at the beginning or end of class. You've probably seen the symbol for it painted on the yoga studio wall, or decorating a pair of groovy yoga pants, or tattooed on the ankle of one of your teachers or classmates. Or maybe you've even seen it on the side of a bus, or being chanted in a car commercial.  "Aum," or "Om," as some know it, is everywhere. 

Say it out loud. Say it again. Break it down into four syllables, the last of the four being silent. A-oh-ooh-mmm. Close your eyes, let the "A" or "ahh" sound roll from deep in your belly up through your heart center up through the throat, let the "oooh or uhhh" sound graze the roof of your mouth, let your lips vibrate with "mmmm" and then listen to the silence that follows.  Congratulations. You have just chanted the sound of all of creation made manifest, creation sustained, and all of creation dissolved then absorbed back into the primordial essence that is love, that is eternal, that is the unmanifest out of which all things are born and into which all things die.

That's Aum.

Everything.

As a new mom, one of my sure-fire techniques for calming myself and my son has been chanting Aum. I chanted Aum just about the entire time I labored--which was a very long time indeed--letting my baby know I was always there with him, connected to him, waiting for him.  I chanted Aum for him when he was days, weeks, and even months old and restless. Sometimes it was the only thing that would soothe him.

The happiest baby on the block, where I live? The baby who listens to his mama chanting Aum.

Chanting and breathing are two essential elements of a new mom's yoga practice, if you ask me. All the abdominals and kegels in the world can't compare, as important as those things are.

My son is 16 months old now, and I'm finally getting my old asana practice back. I wasn't one of those yoga mamas who did handstands and backbends and arm balances throughout the entire pregnancy and labor, busting out eka pada bakasana on the hospital bed in the delivery room or in the birthing tub at home; I had "complications," in spite of over 18 years of yoga practice. (I can't imagine how much more "complicated" things would have been if I hadn't had over 18 years of yoga practice!)  I was on and off bedrest. I had major healing to do after my son was born, both physically and emotionally. My open hips had become too open, my pelvic floor fell apart, breastfeeding hurt, I was battling postpartum depression. My daily hour-long, asana-intensive yoga practice evaporated. I hadn't done a handstand or a backbend in a year. Meanwhile, what I could do, through all of it, was breathe. Meditate. Chant.

So I breathed, chanted, and meditated while learning the nuts and bolts of breastfeeding. While getting my forearm balance back. While losing the baby weight. While rebuilding and reconstructing my yoga body, while moving into and furnishing a new house, while changing diapers, while learning to survive on 2 hours of sleep at a time, while driving my baby around town, while learning to go with the real ebb and the real flow of a day, which had become nothing more than a 24 hour cycle of time marked only by the sun rising or setting. 

Breathe. Chant. Aum.

Take time to chant and observe the effects on you and your baby.

During that first year of my son's life, I chanted Aum because my life really depended on it. It reminded me that I am an unlimited being, after all--immersed in the eternal moment and not caught up in the false limitations of time. And isn't that ultimately what a yoga practice is all about?

Here are some CDs with awesome chanting that I recommend:

Eternal Om
Krishna Das "Pilgrim Heart" and "A Drop of the Ocean"
Dave Stringer "Japa" and "Divas and Devas"
Deva Premal "The Essence"
Shantala "The Love Window"

Choosing to Listen

by Ravyn Abboushi

I recently took my little guy to a much touted music class for infants. I had planned for it all week, packed for it, and was sure he was going to love it. But when we got there, he had a melt down. The noise, the other boisterous babies, the time of day, his mood all added up to a pretty stressful time. Not only was I disappointed, I was faced with an awkward choice: I could take my cue from my boy and head for home, or stay and try to make it work.  

I have no pat answer for these situations, and I am faced with them all the time as he tests his independence and seeks new experiences. Sometimes my own hopes for seeing him enjoy something get in the way of hearing what he is telling me, and I end up trying to calm him down when I should have just headed for the door. Other times a little guidance and reassurance from me is all he needs to throw himself confidently into the fray. The only way to know which one he needs is to learn to truly listen to him and to my intuition. So I have resolved to be a good listener and to get past my own desires so I can see what he needs from me.

Like many other times, I see my yoga practice reflected in this lesson with my son. Partially I practice yoga for equilibrium, not letting the mind be pulled around by senses and desires, so I can perceive clearly and consciously. If I practice parenting with this same intention, I see my son not as an extension of me but as a separate and whole individual with needs, desires, and motivations all his own. When I see him like this, I can better understand how he is feeling. The tricky part--the part I am probably always going to work on--is knowing how to offer the guidance that, as a mother, I need to offer, while honoring his cues. I guess, like any asana, it will just take practice. 

Little Guru

by Ravyn Abboushi

Everyone says your children will teach you volumes about life. I believed it then, but now that I have my son, I know how true that is. When asked recently who my guru is, I answered without thinking: "My son." And he is. 

He is a sensitive monitor of how present I really am in any given moment. He knows when I am really listening to him and when I am pretending to listen to him while I try to check a voice mail. The quality of our interaction changes when I am engaged with him in play vs. when I am mentally elsewhere. He knows. Babies know. My friend's son gets grumpy when she turns her back to do the dishes--even just one single dish--and he is irate when she opens the top to her laptop. Another friend's baby just gets louder and louder when he has been left out of the conversation too long. Babies are creatures of the present moment, and their actions, enjoyment, and inquisitiveness are always genuine. They truly are here now, and being in the presence of a baby so much has been teaching me, little by little, the importance of being present. 

Which is not to say that I can never check messages or clean a dish, because clearly life must go on and we need forks to eat with and clean clothes to wear. But the lesson here for me has been much like the lesson of a regular yoga practice: to truly be aware of the mind, and to be fully conscious in every moment. 

Snow Day Tomorrow?

If you're wondering if we'll be open for business as usual tomorrow, January 28th, just check the news! If AISD is open, we will be too! You can always check online to make sure your class is on: just go our website and check any of the schedules on the left-hand side of the screen!

Remember to Breathe!

By Brienne Diebolt-Brown

By far the hardest part of the birth of my daughter was dealing with my family.

I'm an even-keeled person. Not much phases me. Yoga helps keep me on that straight course. The hormonal changes for me in pregnancy didn't affect my mood--again, probably due to a strong and consistent yoga practice. Much to the annoyance of my mommy friends, even the birth went swimmingly. Everything felt right, until I went home to a house full of relatives.

I was not prepared for my changed relationship with my family. I walked in the door that first day home. My brother, on break from medical school, was still camped out on an air mattress in the living room. My dad--with his shoe on the seat of my dining room chair--started lecturing me about changing the air filters regularly. My mom offered to clean up the kitchen, but then ran out for another bottle of champagne. My parents' sweet but untrained dogs were jumping around with excitement. My unphased, yogic world felt messy and out of control within a matter of seconds.

I asked them all to put the dogs outside, to clean up, to get their feet off my furniture. Our roles were completely reversed. This was my baby, and I wanted things to be clean and calm for our recovery. I found myself scurrying around the house vacuuming, doing laundry, changing sheets, putting way too many glasses in the dishwasher (nesting does not stop after the baby is born!). There was some name-calling; there were scowls. I'm pretty sure my dad went back to East Texas early, because he didn't like my attitude. And I was especially bereft because I just didn't feel capable of practicing my asana. All I wanted to do was sleep and cry.

Many of my friends warned me that they had had similar experiences with their relatives, that they had established a timeline for how long they would be in town and the duties they were required to carry out. Knowing I was not alone in this experience didn't make me feel any better. Practicing pranayama (breath control) got me through the next few days. It was the meditation and focus I needed when the rest of my body refused to help me out.

To this day, my parents are still aghast that I have rules, and that their rules don't really count in my house. But, they're a little more mellow about it. They leave their dogs at home now. They still have "grandparent syndrome" and forget to clean up their mess. I just take a big breath, let it out slowly, and let them hold the baby.

And the best thing is: when they're in town, I can skip out to take a friend's yoga class.

The Yoga of the Diaper Change!

by Ravyn Abboushi

Just as it did in pregnancy, practicing yoga has come in handy for so many of the challenges of motherhood!

My most recent challenge has been my son’s newfound hatred of diaper changes.  Although (or maybe because) we manage to give him lots of diaper-free time, my 11 month old has begun to scream and cry and try all manner of amazing acrobatics to escape the dreaded diaper.  His rage begins as soon as he detects a shift in my movements, a diaper at the ready across the room, or as I gently begin to lower him onto his back.  He lets me know that he will not go quietly and there will be no joy while such injustices as diapers exist to menace innocent babes. 

So, after trying to persuade him with his favorite toys, songs, dances, funny faces, and even cheerios (which ended with a rather monumental explosion of cereal bits and dust all over my bed), I realized I had no idea what the key was to getting through this. 

And then one day it hit me: I have no control over his hatred of diapers. I just have to accept what is right now.

When I am trying to tune in for practice and my mind is everywhere all at once, I remind myself to be present and relinquish control over things outside the room.  Or when I am in a yoga pose that is very hard for me, I remind myself to accept the challenge and not try to control the pose but rather just “be." Likewise, when my son begins to scream about the diaper change I have stopped trying to get him to be happy. I just remind myself to be with him. I let him tell me he hates it. Yes, I speak soothingly to him as he gets upset and I even offer him a soft toy or two, but I have stopped trying to control his reaction. Instead, I just try to understand and let him work through this stage in his life. The great thing is that I feel less angst about diaper changes now, and this seems to make him a little calmer as well. He still hates the diaper change, but now there is not the added stress of mom trying to control or change his emotions. 

 

Practice compassion

by Ravyn Abboushi

Ah, motherhood.  There is no way to know how it will change you until you are there.  I remember thinking--before I had my son--that my house would always be the simple, peaceful, organized space my husband and I created together. We would clean it when the baby slept and keep things tidy, of course. I remember thinking that I would make a point to keep my yoga practice as lengthy and as focused as it had always been. I would practice early in the morning before the baby got up or in the evening when he went to sleep, I thought. I thought these things because I had never had a baby. 
Now, 11 months into motherhood, I know the truth in these words that everyone says when you are pregnant:  baby changes everything.

My life has changed for the better, and having my son is the best thing that ever happened to me. But, everything has changed. In my (much shorter, more sporadic) practice these days, I have decided to include a meditative focus on compassion. When I get to my mat, I arrive with all the challenges we are currently facing:  sleep deprivation, not enough time in the day, my son is teething, my house is not the paragon of tidy peace I hoped, etc. It's easy to slip into a space of negativity and frustration at these things. So I breathe in and remind myself that things are slowly getting easier. That being a mother is hard and joyful work. That my son is going through his own challenge in becoming a human being and part of our family (not to mention teething is obviously not very comfortable!). And that we are doing the best we can. I breathe out and try let go of any tension or anxiety in my body and mind. I breathe and feel a sense of compassion and understanding for myself, my baby, and my husband. I practice like this during asana, and I often find that after only a few minutes I am smiling to myself and feeling more spacious and free to love my new life. 

As you face your own challenges in being a mom, be compassionate toward yourself and your family. Acknowledge the immensity of the changes you are going through. You are the best mom for your baby. You are doing the best you can in a beautiful but challenging time. Your baby is also doing the best she can, changing and growing and learning to be a part of your family and the human race. 

Choosing a Birthing Class

By Ravyn Abboushi

    Birth is often compared to exhilarating and demanding undertakings like running a marathon or climbing a mountain. All require deep preparation on a mental, emotional, and physical level, and of course, holding your baby in your arms for the first time is a reward unlike any other. 
Prenatal yoga, as you probably know, is fantastic for preparing for birth. Your body, your breath, your sense of confidence and readiness are all positively impacted by your yoga practice. And as your birth nears, you will probably be considering a birthing class, which is a great idea.

    A birthing class will show you childbirth videos and discuss the stages of labor.  You will also be given some tools to help you have the birth you want, such as ways to deal with the intensity of birth, ways for your partner to assist you, contacts for new mom support groups (many birth classes stay in touch afterwards), advice about nursing and bottle feeding, and tips about navigating the requirements of the venue you have chosen to birth in (ie:  hospital, birthing center, or home).

     In my experience and that of my mom friends, a birthing class is one of the best ways for your partner to get involved and prepare.  So, even if you have already read everything there is to read about birth, you may consider attending a class for your partner's sake!

Here are a few links for different birthing classes in Austin:
Conscious Birthing Austin
Hypno Birthing
Austin Bradley
Lamaze

The Postnatal lifeline

 by Ravyn Abboushi

Prenatal yoga classes are fantastic for our burdened pregnant bodies and healthy for the little one we are carrying. They are a popular and effective way to build community and share the excitement of anticipating your birth.  But it is after you give birth to your baby, when the pregnancy is over and you are bestowed (suddenly, it can seem) with the mantle of motherhood, that being in touch with your community of family and friends, is even more vital.  

Becoming a mother is overwhelming on so many levels. My experience is that the beauty of this time in your life is equaled only by the amount of work it requires of you, and the immensity of the change you go through is equaled only by the changes yet to come. In the midst of all this, staying connected to other mothers can be a lifeline. A postnatal yoga class is a great way to do this.   

In postnatal yoga classes, your baby can cry, and it’s okay. You can cry. You can nurse. You can be ecstatic over your little one. You can change a diaper. You can smile at and play with and admire your new baby, and you will be surrounded by women who know what you are going through. 

Postnatal classes are worth the effort it takes to get there. I know that for me it took a Herculean effort to get to my first postnatal class. But I found that I was not the only new mom who took nearly 3 hours to get out the door with an overstocked diaper bag. I was not the only mom who had been living in pajamas since the birth and who had put on real clothes for the first time that very day. I was also not the only mom who felt the need to cry and laugh all at once every time someone asked me how it was going. It felt good to be with other women who understood the awesomeness of what had taken place in my life.

I hope that if you are a new mom or if you are about to become one, you will go ahead and take the 3 hours to pack a bag and try a postnatal yoga class. It might be exactly what you need. 

To check out our schedule of postnatal classes, click here!

Mother's Intuition: staying tuned in for the holidays

by Ravyn Abboushi

My experience of becoming a mom is that trusting my mom intuition can be one of the hardest things to learn how to do. Especially as a new mom, it seems there is a gigantic mountain of baby-rearing information out there that can feel like it is falling down on top of you instead of supporting you. With doctors, partners, friends and family all offering advice (not to mention my excessive “Googling” of all things baby) the voice of the inner mother can be drowned out. 

Learning to hear my mom intuition and trust it has been crucial to my journey into motherhood.  People, especially family, are surprisingly free with advice that they assume you need. I have been offered advice on how to feed my baby, how to diaper him, speak to him, get him to sleep, get him on a nap schedule, how long to nurse him--you name it...There are even times I've explicitly said “we don’t do________ (fill in the blank),” only to find that that is exactly what is being done when I'm not in the room. Now, with the holidays bringing my normally far-flung family and their well-intended baby advice, I have been trying to keep the volume way up on my inner mom.  The best way I have found to support this is to do what we do in the first few minutes of a yoga class: tune in and set an intention. 

To tune in, I have found that I need a quiet and comfortable place for my son and me to retreat for a couple of minutes. For us, that means going outside or to a room where we can shut the door (just saying he needs to nurse will get zero argument whatever the situation).  Then we do whatever my son needs (nursing, a diaper change, or to sorting through leaves and pebbles) and while we do that I mentally slow down. I slow my breath, and I slow the rate at which I am speaking to my baby. I bring to mind a single intention, often revolving around this simple question:  “What do I want my baby to get from this situation?” After a few minutes, my inner mom voice becomes clearer, and I feel much more confident being the final word on how things are done around my baby.  Of course, with family visiting the final word is often a compromise, but if I am in tune with my inner mom I am able to compromise in a way that I feel good about.