I have taught with consistency for, almost, the last two years and for the last year, I have maintained full-time employment in addition.
Yoga teaching feeds me--it really does. However, I need to step back and focus more on my own practice and my own life in order to refuel the reservoir from which I give.
I have to admit, it's been nice coming home from work and knowing that the rest of the evening belongs to the kids and I--whatever we want to do--without knowing that I must leave again to teach, returning home with only a couple of hours with them before I call it a night.
Last night, I made an unhurried dinner--Mushroom Marsala cream sauce w/onions and pearled couscous (homemade). Then I made truffles, reviewed my little man's schoolwork and we played a family game. Not one second taken for granted.
As I embark on this break time, I find myself in a tricky situation, caught between what I love to do and what I must do.
Fortunately, my day job not only pays the bills but feeds my soul and affords me financial independence--something I have never had until now as I have always been 'taken care of' by my partner-at-the-time.
My yoga teaching feeds the soul but could never pay the bills--at least, not until I own the studio of my dreams...one day.
I also love my children...dearly (duh) and recognize the importance of my being available for them. Part of mothering mindfully is striking that balance of self-fulfillment, self-care and preservation with...theirs.
I have much to consider in the next few weeks...much.
I had a similar conundrum upon completing my graduate course work--I had been accepted to a university in Atlanta for their PhD program and was prepping to make a smooth transition...until...I didn't.
After all of the go-go-go and hustle that I was clearly capable of during my two years of graduate study, came the downshift and we had time in our days, we had leisure and we had each other.
The more I write, the closer I get to knowing what I need to do.
I love being a mother and I have longed to be a mother since I was 5 years old putting pillows under my shirt and 9 minutes, versus 9 months, later, I would hold a freshly birthed doll in my arms and we would look out my ground level window to the street beyond with the sky on the horizon and I would silently promise to be the love for her I longed for, to be the fortress of safety that I didn't have, to listen to even the space between her words, to fill in every gap I perceived at that precious little age...I promised.