Mama's Hips

I've been struggling with Half Pigeon pose in my yoga practice all summer. I've probably struggled with tight hips long before June, but I didn't notice it so much until I began yoga with the fabulous Beth Williams. She is building her new yoga business, Geneva Yoga, and I was lucky enough to join a free weekly class. Beth explains how to get into the various poses really well, and now that I'm setting up Half Pigeon correctly, I'm discovering a lot of tension that I didn't know I had. I find that as I lay over my left leg, trying to sink into my right hip, each breath brings a spasm to the muscle. This isn't my chakra vibration manifesting; rather, I think it's my hip fighting to keep holding the emotion it's been storing there for years.

Photo from nancynelsonyoga.com

Our bodies reveal a lot of what is going on in our hearts and minds. I haven't studied body language in depth, but I've learned that emotions and burdens show up in our muscles and how we carry ourselves. Like many moms, I carry my world on my shoulders, and my muscles become tense in response. Sometimes my shoulders sag under the weight, and then I'll remember to straighten up and bear it with strength. My shoulder blades will take on some of that burden, which eventually settles in the hips. Our hips are where we carry our emotional junk. It is the body's way of trying to protect us, by holding those emotions for us. (If body language fascinates you, you might enjoy this blog post about muscle tension and this one about tight hips.)

"Woman Carrying the World on Her Shoulder" by John Labbe
www.gettyimages.ae

For the first decade of motherhood, I carried my five babies on my hip. Yoga is revealing that, at least emotionally, I haven't put those children down on their own two feet. 

Four years ago, we began teaching our children about managing money. We dropped the bomb on them that they are expected to move out by September 1 after they turn 18. The 16-year-old in the family always finds this prospect  exciting! From inside the walls of our home--where they don't have to think about bills, and groceries magically fill the shelves each week--they envision their own stylish apartment where the chore list and curfew are nonexistent. Subconsciously, they also correctly understand that we, Mom and Dad, trust our children to be smart and to make good decisions. We want them to know that the wide, unknown world is theirs to explore and conquer.

As the high school years fall away, however, the realities of adulting rush in. Two years ago, Kassidy chose a somewhat easy transition, as her path went on to college paid by scholarship and subsidized honors student housing. Madelyn has taken a more difficult, but still admirable, start to adulthood. Her choice is to work full-time until she can serve an LDS mission. The jobs that are available for her young age and lack of experience don't pay a lot, so even when her budget is managed wisely, it will be stretched to its limits. Add the complication of finding affordable housing in a town with two universities and lots of competition for good housing, and you may understand why I worry over her. That worry sits heavy on my maternal hips.

My head knows that moving into their own place is a necessary step in my children's adult journey. Yet, as I push them out of our nest, my heart empathizes with their struggles. I doubt there has ever been a baby bird that thanked its parents as it fell toward the ground, trying to spread its wings. Instead, parents often become the receiving end of complaint and blame for being the source of their children's struggle. As I watch my babies in that unresolved space falling toward earth, hoping and praying that they fly rather than splat, my instinct is to swoop in and carry them to safety. With that internal conflict, my hips come to the rescue, trying to support and protect me from the pain and uncertainty of being a parent.

My prayers of late have earnestly asked that Madelyn will find a good living situation for the next 12 months. I prayed that she finds a clean apartment she can afford so the rent doesn't break her. I prayed that she finds a place with roommates close to her own age who will be supportive friends. I add in that maybe they could also be poor so they don't encourage her to blow her budget. And perhaps her new place could have a pool or a gym so she can stick with her workout goals. Most importantly, I prayed that she could stay on track with her goals to save and prepare for her mission.

One morning as I offered up these requests, I got an answer.

"I've got this."

And I remembered: her Heavenly Father knows her better and loves her...even more than I do. He's watched over billions of His children, helping them to progress. He's watching over her, too. He knows better than I which people and experiences will best help her continue to grow.

So my prayers in recent days have changed. I simply ask that she will know the right place to live when she finds it. I add in hope that she will recognize God's hand in the process. For myself, I ask that I will have courage to refrain from giving her all the answers. My role is to stop searching online housing listings for her. I don't need to go to every apartment tour with her. She's seen me ask about rental deposits and application processes. Now I need to pull back and trust that she can ask the right questions for herself.

In this morning's yoga practice, as I rested my forehead on the ground, seeking to open my hips, I found myself silently crying. Beth guided us to thank our hips for working so hard to care for us. As we breathed deeply into the pose, she encouraged us to give our hips permission to let go of the burdens they were carrying. For the first time in months, my hips stopped shaking and I melted toward Mother Earth, tears of gratitude and relief washing through me and carrying those emotions away.

Photo from www.melissawest.com

Just as years ago I had to set down my baby to let her learn to toddle...just as I am watching her take her first steps into adulthood now, her Heavenly Parents--and mine--are watching all of us walk through this life. They support and guide us, Their children, along our difficult paths. They know when to carry us and when to let us toddle along, because those steps we are taking are for our growth.