The real reason I put my daughter in toddler yoga

My daughter Emma and I attended her first toddler yoga class last week.

The class was pretty much what you would expect for a course designed for 1-3 year olds.  We barked as we did our downward dogs and alternated between mooing and meowing during cat-cow.  The moms sang a cute song with “OM” in the chorus.  Emma pushed me off the mat and tried to imitate the poses.  The toddlers stole water bottles from each other.   I laid quietly during savasana while Emma ran around the room, screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

I have practiced yoga for over 10 years now.  Sometimes I get to class every week.  Sometimes months go by without me being on my mat.  I practiced, with modifications, throughout my entire pregnancy with Emma.  When I do manage to attend class, I feel immeasurably grateful.  My teachers remind me to breathe.  They help me to stay present in the moment, even it only lasts for those 60 minutes that I am on the mat.  Yoga has made me stronger and more flexible.  I know that the practice will always be a part of my life.  My hope is that Emma benefits from yoga in the same way that I have over the years.

I want Emma to feel strong and beautiful, and to move her body in ways that make her happy.  I hope that she learns to listen to her breath and follow its lead.  I wish for her to remain open-hearted and flexible, both physically and emotionally.  I hope she stands tall and proud, with her shoulders back and chest out.  I want her to work hard and sweat.  I wish for her to learn that she is capable of more than she knows.  I want her to find balance in her body and her life.  I hope that one day she feels how a room can be so deeply filled with love from strangers.  These are the gifts that I have received from yoga that I wish to pass along to her.

I want her to know the word “namaste.”  Literally translated, it means “I bow to you.”  Over the years I have heard another interpretation that I have always loved: “the light in me honors the light in you.”  I want Emma to acknowledge not only the light in others, but also the light in herself.  Yoga has shown me how to do this.

This is the real reason I enrolled her in yoga: the hope that she receives the same gifts from this practice that I have received.  I cannot control whether she becomes a yogi or not, but I can expose her to the lessons I have learned on my mat.

Maybe she is too young to take it all in, I thought for a moment, as she ran around yelling during class last week.  In my heart, I know she is not too young.  When I closed my eyes during savasana, I could see her in a downward dog, feeling strong, grounded, breathing, full of light and ready to take on the world.