In a breakout room last week, Richard Sugarman asked some great questions around what may be the indicators of trust being evident and connection to be felt between people. It had me thinking more about how one might start to build the foundation for this. I immediately thought about the importance of expressing curiosity for others through asking questions, particularly meaningful ones as Rich had just done, as these can truly serve as bridges amongst individuals from all different backgrounds. Jaime's writing below inspires me to think more about the beauty of learning about others and their interests and beliefs, with both friends and strangers. And how doing so can expand not only my perspective but my empathy for others. 

- Amanda

It's easy to feel obsessed with convenience and quickness. 

Doing things faster. More efficient. 

There's a desire for the quick high of the left lane

We grow the “most food for the most people”. 

And I know I can buy anything from anywhere and have it tomorrow. 

But what if going slow was sexy? 

A year ago today I was averaging 1-3 hours of sleep a night. Every day was just about surviving. I had accidentally weaned baby E as I was intentionally weaning big E because tandem nursing amongst all the other things going on at the time had taken its toll on me. I was emotionally devastated & physically exhausted & so mentally blurred I never knew if I was doing the “right thing”. And it was so hard to see how it was ever going to get any better. I was probably in the midst of some postpartum hormonal distress & anxiety & depression & didn’t think of it that way. I was just hard on myself (and everyone). I never found consistent therapeutic support, which was probably necessary in hindsight. But I am grateful for friends & family & lactation consultants & coaches & yoga teachers and babysitters who little by little, piece by piece helped me take baby steps to get where I am today. 

During my sophomore year of college, I took a creative writing course that helped me grow on various levels. Throughout my schooling, I had always felt confident in the subject area of writing, but the professor I had shattered that confidence the first month of the semester... in a great and perhaps necessary way.

It's easy to feel obsessed with convenience and quickness. Doing things faster. More efficient. There's a desire for the quick high of the left lane. We grow the “most food for the most people”. And I know I can buy anything from anywhere and have it tomorrow. But what if going slow was sexy?

To laugh everyday.

To ride big-wheels at 70 years old.

To not "give a s$*t" about what others think.

To take walks into town. To hold hands at any age.

I’m a certified yoga teacher.

I feel so blessed to have taught in so many settings.

I have taught children. I have taught strangers in a community garden. I have taught kids in low-income communities without mats. I have taught fellow friends and activists committed to community change.

And, maybe my favorite of all, I taught teen aged boys when I lived in Costa Rica. I never intended to teach teenage boys. It was never a job I specifically applied for and it was never something I would have signed up for if you asked me. But…

Ten years ago my Dad wrote me a twenty page handwritten, barely legible letter and sent it to me in El Salvador. His spelling sucked and he was far from perfect, but he sure knew how to love and he loved a lot of things and a lot of people in life very deeply.

Lately, when people ask me how I am doing, I cannot answer “Good, how are you?”.

I am not sleeping. I have two little ones going through sleep regressions and health issues and challenges. I am running between their bedrooms and ours and usually by the time I go to lay down in our bed my heart is racing so bad that when I finally do wind down, one of the babies is up again. This is my story nearly every. single. night.

So, truth be told, I am not okay. I am so beyond tired. I am overwhelmed. I often don’t know where to start.

Here’s what hit me big lately.

Time for your Self matters. I separate “your Self” like that on purpose. Because it reminds me to think of Me. . .my true self. . . that version of me that feels strong and light and grounded and purposeful and powerful and. . . honestly, sometimes. . . just capable.

Because parenting, motherhood, and the early days post-birth with little ones has shaken me. There are days where I honestly feel like I just pretty much stink at everything.

Yesterday was the first full day momming two that I felt went entirely smooth. It might have been the first time since Emma was born that I went to sleep without any guilt about the day. Since both had long naps at separate times, I got big chunks of one-on-one time with each and it felt so nice to connect with them uninterrupted. Ellie and I did yoga together for the first time in a really long time. We created a new art corner and used old cardboard to color and paint while listening to her favorite Bob Marley songs. Then she helped me make muffins and managed to steal “a couple” (a lot) of chocolate chips and I managed to not freak out about it. Emma and I got to stare at each other for a while and smile. We snuggled and relaxed - which felt so good to just enjoy without guilt. And my husband and I got to have a quiet lunch together!

I love this pic. My Dad took it in 2011... my backyard in El Salvador. He came to visit and we went for a walk to the falls with these little kiddos/my close friends & my chuchito (my wild doggie). I never thought my dad would visit me there - sleep on the floor, bucket bathe outside with cold water, use my outhouse, and carry a Spanish dictionary around. He was mad when I told him I was joining the peace corps after college. And he wasn’t ecstatic to learn I’d be living 27 months in one of the most dangerous countries in the world - - it also has some of the hardest working & kindest people, but that doesn’t come up in the News or Google.

For almost 9 years I was in love
In love with a way of life
That left me alone
Most nights
In my bed.
I never called myself wanderlust,
no.

Ellie’s been so involved in our prenatal appointments and especially loves the home visits. Here she climbed up on the couch and squished herself next to me and lifted up her shirt to check her belly too. I’ve been taking out some things for baby two and when she sees them she will now say “baby sisters”. 

I think so much about the person I was before becoming a Mom... And while, yes, I know I’m still that person, the reality is I just simply don’t have the time or space to take action in the ways I used to. I also believe my brain has changed to prioritize the health and well-being of my family. 

The stiller I become the more I can see.

Red dragon flies, ruby meadowhawks... hundreds, 

hovering like helicopters above a surface of green

Before they join the dance with one another 

In circular patterns around the pond. 

One of my favorite parts of the morning is opening the curtains to my favorite room in the house, which happens to be my baby’s nursery/my yoga room. Although this may sound sweet at first, it’s not because that’s how I wake up with baby. That sounds beautiful. But, in fact, I typically wake up in the pitch blackness to my baby crying and/or screaming at 5am…which is not, in fact, my favorite part of the morning.  But, a couple hours later, her Dad takes her out for a morning walk and I come back into her nursery and transform it back into my yoga room…..

I did my first live Zoom yoga class this morning. Lately, I’ve just been squeezing in small self-practices when I can, or doing a pre-recorded class, but I was craving some social connection, so I decided to seek out a live online class at the studio I used to go to. 

After nearly every single yoga class, I always am amazed by the changes I notice in my mind and body. It almost surprises me every time, too. Like, I’ve been practicing for 10 years, how is each time still so new and profound? But, that’s what it is like when working and exploring your own mind and body from a space of curiosity, letting go and conscious breathing: there’s never-ending stuff to discover. 

A few months or more ago, I began greatly reducing the amount of times I help Ellie. Can’t reach something up on a shelf? Oh well. Getting frustrated when her ball rolls under the table, just out of reach. Ugh, bummer. Trips and falls? Even drops her head and whimpers a little? I get a little closer, offer some words or perhaps a rub on the back if it seemed to frighten her, but for the most part, I’m working on giving up “saving her” from her own problems. 

The best part about Ellie's playroom is that it is has a window she can walk up to that faces the woods. Every now and then, we get a close up view of deer. This morning she saw one, pointed and came running over to get a closer look. Then we just stood together and observed for awhile until she was done observing. She said "woof woof" and then went back to play. I really reveled in that experience.