By Karyn Robinson 

“There’s a special place in heaven for the mother of three boys…”

The gentle music, the sweet sweat glistening on my skin, the most incredible feeling of relaxation and all is bliss with the world.  The calming voice of the yoga instructor at the front of the room guiding our breath, the harsh intercom voice piped into our sanctum requesting I attend to my child immediately in the nursery.

So began my introduction to yoga and mommy-hood….. again.

I have four children.  I have spent 22 years, 20 years, 18 years and 8 years collectively and individually with each of them.  My oldest son will be 32 years old when my youngest child graduates high school.   All of my adult life (excluding the year from 21-22) has been spent as a mother.  All these years at motherhood have taught me how strong of a person I really am and really am not, and that I can do almost anything backwards in high heels with a baby on my hip.

Eight or so years ago, with my fourth child tummy still soft and flabby, engorged breasts, and sleep deprived, I heard a call from within me towards serenity. This call took the form of a recreation center guide section entitled “Yoga”.   I would have loved to have my introduction to yoga be at one of the many top rated yoga studios that we are fortunate to have in our Yogi community of Boulder, CO, but the rec. center offered the one thing these top rated, world class studios did not……childcare.  Only in 1.5 hour intervals mind you, the exact length of the class.  With baby and diaper bag in tow, I signed my child into the care of strangers and walked across the hall into bliss.

After my first EVER three movements of a sun salutation; inhaling with hands raising upwards to meet above my head, extending from the middle of my back (known to me as my wing center), then lowering my arms, in swan dive fashion folding over as I exhaled, lifting half way up from my middle as I inhaled, exhaling folding over my mommy belly again, inhaling fully as I raised up, arms floating overhead and eventually landing over my larger than life breasts in prayer.  I knew in that moment I had found something that was to shift me and mold me, rearrange me somehow.  This yoga was something I wanted to share and teach to others, especially to mothers.    To be continued.........

By Karyn Robinson

I send my opening “OM”s in my yoga classes often to my sons.  I often will dedicate a practice to one, or all of my children.  I have found myself in tears during a class, releasing or grieving the loss of one of those boys into manhood.  They have given me my strength, like my yoga, they have guided me, like my yoga, they have pushed back, like my yoga, they have in many ways raised me, like my yoga.   Yoga has aided me through my evolution of  unraveling of my three boys to men.   My yoga is motherhood, motherhood is my yoga.

So the saying goes, there is a special place in heaven for the mother of three boys, I believe there too is a special place in heaven, here on earth, for the mother of three men.  Watching them walk away to their next deployment at the airport, towards their jobs here in town, towards their university classes, towards their girlfriends open arms, towards their ever growing independent lives, is the most pride filled and pain filled sight for me as their mother.  The in between, the independence, the interdependence, the yoking, the union, the yoga of being their mother.

I am so grateful to have my girl, my beautiful daughter of eight years.  The hair-dos, nail painting, tea parties, dolls, and pink dresses.   The sweetness, the cuddles, the discussions, art projects and the nature walks with her I cherish.  I am excited to be a bit older and hopefully a wiser, more patient, more present, yogic-like mother for her.  The mother who soon will lead other mothers with their flabby new mommy tummies and engorged breasts to breathe, move, stretch and embody their motherhood through an hour and a half hopefully with no intercom calls from the nursery.

Why be a mother?  Possibly the answer is simply because I am.