“I hate this shirt.” My son takes the grey polo shirt, rolls it up in a ball and drops it.
“What do you mean you hate it? It’s a perfectly nice shirt. I just bought it for school. Please put it on and don’t say hate.”
“I don’t want to wear it.”
“Just put it on. We’re late.”
“I don’t like it!”
“Put it on!”
My husband hears this and enters the room. “Hey Bud, let’s go check out your shirts.” he says and leads our boy up to his bedroom. He supports my position. He lays out some clothes and they feel the textures. They talk about the change of season and joke about frozen knees in January. Then, he allows our boy a choice between three appropriate shirts. Meanwhile, I’m in the kitchen putting a stray plate into the dishwasher, wrapping a freshly baked blueberry muffin for the ride, wiping smudges off the countertop, and fighting back tears.
This is my Monday morning after I invested 15 sweaty, awareness-enhancing hours doing yoga. I took a weekend workshop with Johnny Gillespie who, with the use of straps, blocks and a 95-degree room, encouraged us to slow our practice and uncover bad habits.
“A slower practice brings a deeper level of awareness.” Johnny says and tightens the straps on our forearms and calves. My muscles fight back with twitches and cramps, but our leader assures us that we were “unwinding dysfunction”. “You will continue to strengthen the very thing that causes you pain unless you retrain the body and mind.”
I think, the five-minute forward bend with a cork block wedged in-between my thighs is the very thing causing me pain.
“Okay guys, find a partner because we’re going to work on handstands. No walls!” Johnny announces.