At the end of every yoga class, instructors lead students through what is called “savasana.” Often called the “corpse” pose, it's a period of complete relaxation in which the body goes through a sensory withdrawal to physically process all that it has just learned.
It's said to be one of the most challenging things to master. Relaxation is elusive. Even when immediate concerns are swept away, it's hard not to brace for what's next or worry about what's gone. To truly be here, in this moment, is a concept many people spend their entire lives chasing.
In the last week, Minion has cut a tooth, crawled and sat up. Some Boy is starting preschool today; just a couple days a week to give me a break, but it feels like some very important things are coming to an end. It's hard to appreciate the relief, to reflect without angst.
On top of that, I've had to start weaning the baby. At six months old, he still wants to nurse every two hours around the clock. I have other children to tend to and a previous back injury that flares up every time I have a child. The point when I have trouble walking to the crib in the morning is time for me to call it quits. My own mental health needs to be prioritized.
Melancholy has set in. It seems to happen around this time with every kid. That first half-year is hard. Life feels like it's on pause, like I'm submerged in the ocean and I can't see the top or bottom or hear the sounds of the world around me. Suddenly, I spring back into the sunlight…but it's too harsh. Too many hands reaching for me all at once. I can't fully clear my vision to recognize the scene, and panic sets in. I'm missing it, I'm missing it all.
Reality slams back hard. GG is gone, and the void is particularly gaping when I reach to call her over new things the baby has learned. I've been checking in with GGpa lately, and I'm happy that I get to see more of him as he's in the midst of moving to a new home. I even talk with my dad on a daily basis now, and I feel like something is clicking that I didn't understand before. There's a cyclical quality to life that I'm starting to appreciate.
As my kids transition from babies to their own full-fledged little beings, I'm emerging into a new chapter of life.
The child becomes the parent. And the parent struggles to see the world again with childlike wonder.