Finding the “Dao” in the field of gray is my understanding of motherhood. The initial
stages of motherhood are both frightening and comfortably comatose. There is this
miracle of life cradled in your arms, grounding you to the roots of the earth and uplifting
you to the heavens and simultaneously a 24/7 dutiful state of alertness immobilizing a
confused sense of identity.
From a busy personal schedule of working, exercising, teaching, socializing, travelling to
an entirely new set of actions and priorities mainly dealing with servicing in ways such as
feeding, changing diapers, comforting, cooing, humming, strolling, tidying and snoozing.
Any mission set out in black or white such as being somewhere for a set time, doing or
attending the early yoga practice would end up being sabotaged. Setting anything in
stone was futile.
My daily yoga asana practice became a discipline that emphasized intuitive movement
using breathing techniques, yoga postures and meditation. I achieved my daily state of
“perfection” by becoming one with the unplanned rhythms of the universe.