Many years ago, when I was trying and failing miserably to get pregnant, I spent a four-day weekend at the Himalayan Institute, a yoga ashram in Honesdale, Pa. While there, I told one of the yoga instructors about all of the problems in my body and my life. It all spilled out of me quickly, many of the words nearly slurred together: “I’m trying to get pregnant, but it’s not happening and we’re supposed to do it every other day, and I’m just getting sick of doing it, but we have to keep doing it or else we’ll never have a baby, and I want to have a baby but, to be honest, I feel almost nothing down there. It’s like I’m cut off from my hips, like that part of my body doesn’t exist or something. I think my husband can tell, and I feel bad about this. I don’t want him to take it personally. I can’t get pregnant and I’ve tried everything. I need to open up my lower body chakras somehow. Any advice?”
With a deep look of compassion on her face, the yoga instructor asked, “Alisa, how do you feel about Child’s Pose?”
It was a rhetorical question, one that she didn’t wait for me to answer. If she had waited, though, I would have told her that Child’s Pose was too easy, too boring, and too lacking in fitness benefits. My nickname for it: Slacker’s Pose. It’s what people did in the middle of class when they ran out of gas and couldn’t possibly hold a Downward Facing Dog for a second longer.
She set up cushions and bolsters, asked me to rest myself onto them, and then simply said, “Stay there.”
“For how long?” I asked.
I believe her answer was “a long time.” I no longer remember. I do know this: At first I was convinced that the yoga teacher somehow hadn’t understood my request. As the minutes ticked past, however, my body sunk into the cushions and I began to surrender. A deep sense of relaxation set in, and I began feeling familiar stirrings of excitement downstairs, if you know what I mean. I realized then that my problem wasn’t physical. It was mental. I was wound too tight and, in order to conceive as well as get in the mood, I’d have to find some inner calm. Soon after that day, I missed a period. Then I peed on a stick and was greeted by a deep, unmistakable plus sign.
I was pregnant, and Child’s Pose became my favorite yoga pose of all.
That was 10 years ago. Child’s Pose isn’t the only yoga pose that offers us lessons for our relationships. The vast majority of yoga poses are not just about yoga. They are about life. They teach us about ourselves, our relationships, and the world around us. Specifically, let’s take a look at what 7 yoga poses have to teach us about our relationships.
Read more of Alisa’s writing at ProjectHappilyEverAfter.com.