I eat biscuits in Warrior II

So I have a baby. Let’s get to the point.

My main concern before deciding to have a baby was what would happen to my yoga practice. Even as they sliced me open to deliver my baby into the world I asked the anaesthetist how long she thought it would be before I could do yoga.  I love my yoga, you see.

Ironically, I need yoga more now than I ever did before. If yoga is stilling the fluctuations of the mind, yoga is a very distant land for me right now.

My back feels like it has been stamped on, I have the breath capacity of a 5 year old , my core strength is laughable (I couldn’t actually laugh for a few weeks for both physical and emotional reasons),  I have enough traumatic energy in my pelvis to fuel the county.My moods are as fluctuating as my thoughts. Picture the epitome of yogi-ness. Not me. I’m happy to say my standards have dropped considerably.

Gone are the days of lighting a candle and incense to start my practice, of doing poses until I’m yogically sated.

Yes you could say my practice has changed. And I have not been entirely graceful in this change. Yoga rules are broken, and I’ll take whatever I can get . . .

I do forward bends on a full stomach

I chant during nappy changes (when I can be arsed)

I burp in tree pose

I do cat cows on the bathroom floor at 3 in the morning

I meditate* having not washed for 2 days, with sick / poop / matter on my trousers (hardly saucha)

I eat biscuits in Warrior II

* Meditation: 2 minutes of agitated sighing, sipping strong tea

Then there are moments of yoga that I have never had before. I am totally united with a little creature who is entirely reliant on me – I am growing her via my boobs. She’s beginning to be sociable and make eye contact – these moments are timeless. Sometimes our breath falls into sync. I love her unconditionally and like nothing else before.

So this is the new yoga. I’m not going to market it as a new brand; I don’t think it would catch. But it is my yoga, for now, until it changes again.